


The Eighteenth Year

by simp_for_boys_love



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Boyfriends, F/F, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Gay, High School, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Teenagers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simp_for_boys_love/pseuds/simp_for_boys_love
Summary: It's Cyrus Goodman's senior year of high school. Apart from taking care of his long-time best friend and former crush Jonah Beck, Cyrus plans to further cultivate his friendships with Andi Mack and Buffy Driscoll. The one thing he doesn't plan on: T.J. Kippen.
Relationships: Amber/Andi Mack, Buffy Driscoll/Marty, Cyrus Goodman & T. J. Kippen, Cyrus Goodman/T. J. Kippen, Iris/Libby (Andi Mack), Jonah Beck/Walker Brodsky, Muffy - Relationship, Tyrus - Relationship, ambi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	1. Last Party of the Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is basically the same but the development of T.J. and Cyrus's relationship, and that's why it's AU! Hopefully, it's just as rewarding, though!

Cyrus stilled as the boy next to him snaked an arm around Cyrus’s neck, muttering something about basketball in his ear with warm breath laced with the smell of beer. Cyrus sniffed aggressively, smiling politely at his interlocutor. “Yeah, I think so too. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to--” He jerked his thumb in the direction of upstairs, thankful for Jonah’s inebriated confusion as he stumbled away from the boy. 

As Cyrus scaled the stairs, he considered how he always ended up in this situation. It was always Cyrus playing designated driver to a drunken Jonah, though they had called each other best friends for years. They had always been closer, but they got even closer after Cyrus came out to him in middle school despite Cyrus’s concerns about awkwardness or homophobia. Instead, Jonah had made it his primary mission to embrace Cyrus with open arms and ward off any bullies who even looked Cyrus’s way. 

But one thing Jonah _could not do_ was hold his liquor. Cyrus blew out a heavy sigh as he considered this, knocking on the doors of the upper level with a sense of deja vu. He added a bullet to the ongoing list in his head of things to talk to Jonah about. He knew, though, that he would probably never actually go through with it. Most days, Cyrus felt so indebted to Jonah that he’d gladly take a bullet for the young man. He adjusted his collar as his mind argued that maybe that was more than a sense of debt. Cyrus knew he would always hold Jonah in high regard. He was the first crush Cyrus had, the boy that had awakened him to his sexuality at one of the most trying periods of Cyrus’s life. He thought, with a sigh of defeat as he opened an empty bedroom door, that he might always have a weak spot for Jonah Beck. 

“ _Fuck_ .” Cyrus startled as the word fell from the lips of a blonde boy handcuffed to the mattress in the middle of the bedroom. He was fumbling with the cuffs as the silver dug into his skin, and Cyrus’s first reaction was to blush. He couldn’t form words, though questions swirled about his head in ample supply. Instead, he continued to watch the blonde boy struggle until the unlit cigarette fell from his lips, and he banged his head against the headboard exasperatedly. When the blonde boy opened his eyes next, he gasped at Cyrus across the room. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know anyone else had…” His voice trailed, and Cyrus’s blush deepened as the blonde smirked. “Were you just going to watch me struggle?” A strangled gasp escaped Cyrus’s throat, and the blonde boy laughed, “For how long?” Cyrus swallowed hard, averting his eyes from the other boy’s piercing green ones. He suddenly felt insecure about his appearance. _I mean, how on-brand was it for him to have_ brown eyes _?_ he thought to himself in disgust. He gulped again when the boy began struggling once more. “There’s a key in my back pocket. Think you could…?” He winked at Cyrus as Cyrus’s gaze traveled up. “I’ll owe you one.” 

Cyrus remained mute as his knee dug into the bed, his hand positioning itself in the other boy’s pocket until he placed the key he was looking for. He pulled back quickly, all but throwing the key at the other man’s face. It fell ungracefully into his lap, and the other man laughed again, “If you can’t see, _both_ of my hands are tied up. That’s why I couldn’t get myself out in the first place.” He glanced down to his lap, and Cyrus thought he’d rather just dig himself a hole to climb into. 

He managed a slight, “Oh,” as he retrieved the key with the speed his gym teacher had been yelling at him to possess all year long. He used it to unlock the cuffs that tied the boy to the bedpost, and he was just about to bolt when the other boy laughed again. There was something about his laugh that made Cyrus want to laugh, too, rather than feel backed into a corner like the boy was making fun of him. He remained quiet as the boy put the handcuffs and key in a drawer beside the bed, and Cyrus wondered curiously at the identity of the now-free man. 

“I’m T.J. Kippen.” _Well_ , Cyrus guessed as he shook the boy’s hand, _he wouldn’t have to wonder for long._ T.J. Kippen ran his fingers through his hair, which looked heavy with gel, before bringing them back to his sides and offering Cyrus a seat next to him on the side of the bed. 

Cyrus’s nodded as he perched himself a few feet away from the boy, “I’m Cyrus Goodman.” 

“Goodman, you said?” Cyrus nodded, fully prepared for the jokes he had heard his entire life, but they never came. T.J. merely tilted his head, “You think that’s indicative?” 

“I hope so.” Cyrus felt like he might be smiling too much or too big, and he stared at his feet as they grappled to reach the floor under him with little luck. Only the tips of his checkered Vans seemed to graze the hardwood. 

T.J. spoke again, “Wait, Goodman, Goodman.” He tapped his chin in thought, “You’re friends with that painter chick and that mean girl, right?!” He snapped his fingers in triumph, “Buffy! I remember her from my science class. We were supposed to be partners, and she wanted to control the _whole_ project. Such a pain in the neck.” At Cyrus’s fallen expression, T.J. scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, I wasn’t the nicest to her, either. I made some comments about girls not being good at STEM or something like that.” A thin layer of pink dusted his cheeks, and Cyrus marveled at it. This boy was twice Cyrus’s size, and he had to be athletic. Cyrus briefly looked at his biceps before looking back at his shoes. _How could someone who looked like that ever be embarrassed?_ “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Your friends seem really cool. I wish I could apologize to Buffy for what I said.” He rolled his eyes, “I was so influenced by my dad and friends back then.” He shrugged, “Though that isn’t an excuse. Do you think you could convince her to meet up with me?” 

“Are you serious?” Cyrus didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but it came out that way nonetheless. 

T.J. came to a stand in front of the bed, leaning against the wall so he could look at Cyrus as he spoke. He pierced Cyrus’s boring brown eyes with his own seemingly electrically-charged ones. Cyrus thought only robots or selectively-bred children could have eyes like that. And then he felt stupid for thinking something nerdy like that. Cyrus was pretty good at biology, come to think of it. _Anyway_. He dismissed the thoughts, listening carefully to what T.J. said, “I’m serious, Cy.” 

_Cy._ Were they on some sort of nickname-basis? He didn’t even think they were on a first-name basis. The only person who had ever given him a nickname was Jonah, and he gave everyone a nickname. He called Cyrus Cy-Guy, Andi Andiman, and Buffy the Slayer. Actually, Slayer had been him, and he was pretty proud of that. He blinked away his thoughts again, gaze coming back to meet T.J.’s. “Fine. But one question.” 

T.J. nodded emphatically, “Anything.” 

Cyrus thought all the blood might rush to his head as he asked, “Why were you handcuffed to the bed?” 

T.J. threw his head back and laughed, “Well, I don’t think it’s what you think it is.” Cyrus could play it off like he had no idea what the boy was talking about, but actually he couldn’t because Cyrus was a terrible liar. His best strategy in that moment was to laugh awkwardly and tug on his earlobe as it, too, grew red. “My sister was attempting to get revenge. When I was little, I had this crazy obsession with magic and card and cuff tricks. Nerdy, right?” Cyrus laughed. “Anyway, she came in my bedroom this morning and started begging me to get my magic kit out; and I thought it was just her being sentimental. She gets like that. So, I pulled it out. I put the key in my back pocket, and she cuffed me to the bed.” By this point, Cyrus had completely lost it, falling off the bed in laughter, his back digging into the bed frame as he attempted to control himself. “Hey, stop that! That isn’t funny! You know, my sister has been called a Snorpion. It’s like this cross between a snake and a scorpion. Super great, but her wrath is like hell-hath-no-fury.” This only made Cyrus laugh harder, and when he couldn’t contain himself and snorted, he grew red with humiliation. T.J. didn’t make fun, merely coming to sit next to Cyrus against the bed. “I can’t _believe_ it’s five minutes into our friendship, and you’ve already nearly let me remain tied to a mattress _and_ teased me. That’s not something a _Good-man_ would do.” His corny joke sent Cyrus over another edge as he snorted again, all but falling into T.J.’s grasp. His head rested naturally against the other boy’s shoulder, and he let it lie there even after he had regained his composure. T.J. grinned, twisting his body so that he was slouched against the bed, making their position more comfortable for Cyrus. “See, I can be funny.” 

Cyrus punched him in the shoulder feebly, “Yeah, you’re a real comedian.” He was ready to go into another fit of laughter when he realized how close he was to the boy and suddenly panicked. He was so close that he could smell the peppermint hot chocolate that emanated from the Kippen boy, so close that he could see the curve of T.J.’s lips, inches from his own, and the deep dimple on either side of aforementioned lips. He could even count the freckles on T.J.’s nose if he really wanted to. _Which he didn’t_ , he reminded himself as he pulled away from the boy, leaving a gaping space between them as T.J. grimaced. “I, uhm… Jonah.” Cyrus didn’t say anything else as he made his way to the door, clumsily tripping a few times on the way there. 

“Wait, Cyrus--!” The door slammed shut behind him, and Cyrus was struck with a feeling of sadness, a pang that he had last felt when Jonah inadvertently rejected him by choosing his friend Andi Mack over Cyrus in middle school. Cyrus tried chuckling at it, certain he was overthinking the whole situation, but there was no mistaking the familiar ache in his chest. Of course, he had never held any ill will toward Andi for this, and he never would. But that didn’t stop him from feeling. He tried to order the thoughts and feelings away, but with four shrink parents, Cyrus hadn’t been able to bottle his emotions up since they did an actual visualization exercise for him when he was three to show the consequences of bottling one’s emotions up. Instead, Cyrus was left longing for someone to talk to other than Jonah, who could offer Cyrus only nonsensical rants and drunken advances. 

As Cyrus made his way unsteadily down the stairwell, he was pulled the rest of the way down by another of his closest friends, Buffy Driscoll, A.K.A. the “Slayer.” “Buffy!” He attacked her with an embrace that nearly crushed her bones, and she was delighted at this as she tugged Cyrus into the kitchen to introduce him to her new boyfriend. 

“Marty, look who I found!” Oh. So maybe he wasn’t new, exactly. Cyrus called to memory a brief period of Buffy and Marty meeting at a birthday party of a mutual friend in sixth grade, then some not-so-friendly competition between the two before Buffy rejected Marty and he basically fell off the face of the planet. Though, apparently, he had been here all along. 

Cyrus stuck his hand out to Marty, glancing between him and Buffy curiously. “Nice to see you again! So you two are--?”

“ _Just friends_ ,” Buffy managed through gritted teeth. 

Cyrus got the hint, nodding vigorously at Marty, “Awesome. Want to dance?” 

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Please. As if he could dance better than _me_.” So maybe that period wasn’t so brief, either. 

Before the two could engage in their usual banter, Cyrus tapped Buffy on the shoulder, yelling over the music blasting through the house. “Have you seen Andi?” 

Buffy shrugged, “I thought I saw her talking to Walker by the drinks.” 

“Oh, are they--?” Buffy cut him off with a single head shake, and Cyrus shot her finger guns as he walked away. It was getting harder and harder to keep up with his friends these days. Sure enough, Andi was dawdling anxiously by the beer pong table and the pool, explaining something to Walker in drawn-out syllables while pulling on the strap of her crossbody bag--she had made it herself at that fancy art school she went to now--draped across her shoulder. Cyrus didn’t want to interrupt, but a drunken Jonah backed into him while trying to catch a football, sending Cyrus crashing through the open glass door and into Andi’s shoulder. 

Andi’s eyes widened before coloring with relief, Walker’s mocking laughter a few feet away immediately forgotten as Cyrus tried to think up an excuse to drag Andi away. “Walker Brodsky, my man.” Cyrus winked, and Andi visibly cringed beside him. He frowned, “We have a tater situation in the kitchen that I was hoping I might be able to utilize Andi’s skills to fix. It’s kind of big though.” He mouthed to Walker, _Stay away_. 

Walker nodded, amusement still alight behind his eyes, “Sure, Cyrus. We’ll talk later, right, Andi?” 

“Of course!” Cyrus wasn’t the only poor liar of his friends. Andi linked her arm through his as they walked away, toward an isolated section of the kitchen. The sink appeared the safest, far away from the corner of the room where Cyrus’s first and only girlfriend, Iris, was making out with yet another of Jonah’s exes, Libby. Cyrus tilted his head, trying to gauge how far Iris’s tongue was lodged down Libby’s throat when Andi’s voice cut in. “Cyrus, you’re staring,” she reprimanded, forcing his thoughts back to the girl before him. 

He grinned as he took a piece of Andi’s hair between his fingers. “Uhm, big _yes_ to these pink highlights. The Good Hair Crew has done it again, ladies and gentlemen.” His smile only widened as Andi laughed wholeheartedly, a far cry from the girl who had been uncomfortable babbling across from, in Cyrus’s opinion, a very pushy conversationalist. “What was that all about?” 

“Nothing. He wants to get back together again.” Andi sighed, “Because that worked so well the last time.” 

“Especially after all that drama he caused when he dated Buffy,” Cyrus uttered with distaste. 

“Don’t remind me,” Andi groaned, twisting to lean over the sink. She wrinkled her nose. “Whose house is this, anyway? Would it kill them to clean up?” 

“Said no party guest ever.” Cyrus felt his fear creep in as the she-demon herself stood in the entrance feet away from them. 

Andi smiled sarcastically, “Amber. Great. My night wasn’t _fun_ enough.” 

Amber stalked over warily, winking in Cyrus’s direction. He shuddered. “Andi, c’mon. I thought I apologized for all those _times_.” 

Andi rolled her eyes, “If you couldn’t see, I’m having a conversation with my friend here.” 

Amber nodded coyly, stepping ever closer to Andi Mack. “I see that. But, really, Mack, who can resist a Kippen?” 

_Kippen?!_ Cyrus felt his breaths grow rapid as he pointed at Andi, “What was that nickname you and Buffy gave Amber in middle school?”

Andi made a face like _not the time, Cyrus!_ but shrugged nonchalantly, “The Snorpion. Why?” 

“I’m hurt, Andi. Seriously wounded.” Cyrus didn’t have time to watch the two’s screaming match, however, because this new piece of information suddenly made him want to vomit. He carried himself to the nearest bathroom so he could puke, but it was no use. Cyrus was always DD, and he didn’t have anything on his stomach to throw up. Besides, what person with anxiety as bad as Cyrus’s would actually eat or drink before a party. The chances to embarrass oneself enough for a nervous stomach at a large social gathering were huge. Unsurprisingly, these thoughts weren’t making Cyrus feel better. In fact, they were making him feel a lot worse. 

“Okay, Cyrus,” he told himself in the mirror. “This is the last party of the summer before your senior year. There’s really no reason you should still be this panicky and faint-hearted. You’re going to be eighteen soon, a full-grown adult." The tattoo he was to get on his wrist wouldn’t make him any more of a man if he couldn’t handle a chance-encounter with Amber Kippen’s broody, super hot brother. 

_Crap_ . That, he knew, was exactly where the problem lied. Because Cyrus Goodman had really only liked one boy in his life, and that was further out of reach than he’d have liked to admit. But this _thing_ with T.J. Kippen, whatever it was, was already starting to rival anything he had ever felt with Jonah before, and that was all from a few minutes of talking to the boy. 

A knock sounded on the door, “Cyrus, you all right in there?” 

Cyrus opened the door, smiling at the person who had helped Cyrus work his whole life around avoiding the sting of rejection ever again. “Jonah. Let’s get you home.” 


	2. Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Cyrus stuck a pencil behind his ear as he explained the math homework to Jonah one last time. “Proofs are easy. It’s all about knowing how to manipulate them.” He smiled at a confused Jonah as he finished the problem for him, “Get it?” 

“I can’t do this, Cy-Guy.” Jonah blew out a frustrated breath. It was at that time that Buffy sat at her usual place across from Jonah and next to Cyrus, Marty attached to her elbow with one hand. He plopped down in the seat beside Jonah like he sat there every day. 

Buffy raised her brows at Jonah, “Can’t do what?” 

“Trig,” Jonah sighed, crumpling up the blank sheet of notebook paper in his hands. “Cy-Guy tried to explain it to me, but I just--” He cradled his face in his hands, “I just can’t.” 

“Hey, Jonah, it’s okay.” Cyrus rubbed comforting circles in his best friend’s back, and Jonah relaxed into them before tensing again. Cyrus blushed, looking away sheepishly. 

Buffy gave a warning growl in Jonah’s direction, “I’m sure Cyrus has done his best to explain it to you and probably halt the onset of a panic attack.” Jonah jumped at the phrase, looking around conspiratorially to make sure no one had heard Buffy say it. Marty looked indifferent to all of this, playing with a coil of Buffy’s hair. “Maybe I can tutor you after ultimate frisbee practice. I’m pretty good at math.” 

“Oh!” Marty jumped at the chance to add to the conversation, “I heard there’s only one person you couldn’t tutor.” 

Buffy looked like she could slit his throat at any minute, and Cyrus leaned forward in his seat, “Who?” 

Buffy feigned nonchalance as she twirled her fork in her mac and cheese. “T.J. Kippen.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Cyrus choked on literal air at this revelation, his eyes quickly finding T.J. in the cafeteria. He was eating lunch with Amber, Iris, Libby, and a multitude of other characters. It was a change of pace from the gaggle of jerks he sat with in middle school. Cyrus could remember the blue-eyed gaze of the ex-derby captain, Reed Montgomery, who used to call Cyrus the worst of homophobic slurs. Come to think of it, Cyrus was surprised he and T.J. had been in intermingling circles all this time without formally knowing one another. T.J. probably would have been his bully back then. Though Cyrus couldn’t imagine T.J. bullying anyone. 

“You heard me. T.J. Kippen. The worst of the worst. Chauvinistic, misogynistic, and just plain mean.” She rolled her eyes so hard Cyrus worried they might fall out of her head. “He was a lost cause, anyway. I suspected him of having this math dyslexia, but he was so against having a ‘disability’ that he wouldn’t get help for it. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.” The venom in her tone raised red flags to Cyrus, but he couldn’t help looking back in the direction of the taller boy. Whoever Buffy was describing, it certainly didn’t sound like the man Cyrus had met at the party last night. 

Speaking of the party, Jonah pushed his black shades up the bridge of his nose, somehow still managing to glower at Cyrus. “Cy-Guy, I thought you made me a hangover remedy.” 

Cyrus gulped, “It’s in your locker. I gave it to you this morning.” 

He could hear Jonah’s eye roll. “Who let us go to a party the day before senior year, anyway? Whose stupid idea was that?” The silence was answer enough as Jonah groaned, “It was me, wasn’t it?” 

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” Buffy beat her fork against her water bottle, and Cyrus held back a laugh as Marty full-on chuckled. 

“You guys have to learn how to resist my irresistible charm,” Jonah suggested. 

“Bad at English, too? What do you think irresistible means, Beck?” Buffy jerked her head in the direction of Kippen’s table. “No wonder you have a table full of exes. Andi would probably sit there if she weren’t so darn good at art, too.” 

Cyrus snorted, and Jonah gagged, “Cyrus, I told you, that’s gross.” 

Buffy looked about two seconds from strangling him, and Marty put a steadying hand on her arm to stop her as Cyrus attempted a laugh. Buffy still ground her teeth, “Cyrus, can I have a minute in the hallway?” 

“Sure.” He got up on shaky legs, gasping as Buffy forcefully pulled him aside. “Buffy, ow!” 

“Sorry, Cyrus, but how much longer are you going to let him walk all over you like that? I know you used to have,” she glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “A  _ thing  _ for him, but that’s no excuse for him treating you like trash. You deserve better than that.” 

Cyrus took in a long breath, “Buffy, I know that. But I’m his best friend. You know how he gets after parties.” 

“Boy, do I,” she mumbled frustratedly. “Fine, Cy, but I can’t stand by and keep watching this. He gets worse every day.” 

“Thank you for caring about me.” He pulled her into a long embrace, and she tightened her grip in order to hug him back. When they finished, he gave her a pleasant smile. 

She saw through it immediately, “What do you want?” 

He showed all his teeth, “Could you maybe possibly talk to T.J. for me? I ran into him at the party, and he’s really sorry about how he acted a few years ago. He wants to apologize but knew you would shut him down if I didn’t mediate. Thanks, Buff, you’re the best!” 

“Wait, Cyrus, I--” He sauntered off in the direction of his locker, where he had left his bagged lunch. He had anticipated Jonah would ask for his remedy at some point during the course of the meal, and everyone knew Cyrus loved planning ahead. He had just grabbed a paper bag in each hand when the sound of a locker door slamming a few feet away from his startled him into dropping both bags. 

At some point during lunch, T.J. must have slipped from Cyrus’s mind and disappeared off with none other than Bex, Andi’s sister-turned-mother (long story) and art teacher at Grant High. Cyrus listened a bit harder to hear what was being said. “Yeah, bring that, too. And CeCe has some clothes for you and Amber. Hey, stop that. Nobody thinks you’re a charity case. We just want you to be happy. We expect you’ll make something of yourself and pay us back one day.” Bex winked at T.J. as he slung his bag across his shoulder, muttering practically-indiscernible thank-yous and apologies. Cyrus thought he might need to teach him how to be more confident, and that was saying something. They both slipped into Mrs. Mack-Quinn’s office (though she let everybody call her Bex), and Cyrus thought he’d better hurry up before Jonah threw a fit. 

“Oh, Mrs. Mack, I forgot my calculator. I’ll go get it.”  _ Uh oh.  _ Cyrus had nowhere to run, so he leaned against the lockers and froze, attempting to look like a statue against them. 

When T.J. successfully grabbed the calculator, Cyrus thought he was off the hook, but T.J. slammed the locker shut and looked down the hall at a bashful Cyrus. “You’re kind of weird, right?” 

Cyrus gasped in offense, putting his hand over his heart like he had been stung, “That’s so rude of you to say! You were tied to a bedpost yesterday!” 

T.J. walked closer, some of his hair falling into his eyes. Cyrus realized that without the gel, it looked flat. But he somehow wanted to run his fingers through it even  _ more _ . “Relax, Cyrus. I didn’t mean it as an insult. You were going for a statue, right?” Cyrus couldn’t help but beam as he said it, watching as T.J. bent down to pick up the bagged lunch Cyrus had dropped as well as Jonah’s hangover bag. 

“Thanks!” Cyrus reached out to grab the bags, but T.J. stepped away from him at the last second, rifling through the first bag nosily. “Hey!” Cyrus didn’t mind Teej going through his lunch, but if he saw the hangover bag, he might get the wrong idea and think Cyrus had been drinking, which he definitely  _ hadn’t.  _ “Stop that!” 

T.J. took another look in the bag over Cyrus’s head. This was another reason Cyrus hated being short. He growled angrily at Teej for not being able to reclaim it, but it came out more kitten-like purr than predatory or menacing. “Chocolate-chocolate chip muffin?” Teej wrinkled his nose before his smile grew big. 

Cyrus put his hands on his hips, blowing an uncooperative strand of hair from in front of his face, “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” 

“It’s just, they sell these in the cafeteria too. Actually, they serve most of this food in the caf. Not sure why you’d need to pack a lunch when you could just, you know, buy it.” Kippen shrugged against the lockers, and Cyrus finally snatched his bag back. T.J. still had the other one tucked securely under his arm. 

Cyrus sighed, “If you  _ must  _ know, they’re like bloodhounds over those muffins!” T.J. laughed, but Cyrus didn’t find it even a little funny as he slugged the boy in the shoulder, “That’s not funny. If I looked like you, I wouldn’t pack my lunch, either. Everyone’s scared of you.”  _ Oops, he didn’t mean to let that slip out.  _ He cringed, “Sorry, I just meant--” 

T.J. waved it off, “It’s fine. Amber says that, too. Look, if you want a chocolate chip muffin, there are just a couple rules you have to follow to attain it. One of those is confidence.” He pulled Cyrus closer to him by the top of his shirt, a black-and-white striped collarless shirt Jonah had convinced him to wear over his usual button-ups. “Your first step is walking up to the muffin like you own it.” He released Cyrus from his grasp, brushing his shirt off a little like he might have roughed him up or stained him. “Then, you take the muffin.” 

Cyrus frowned, but it couldn’t mask the excitement in his voice, “What else?” 

“That’s it. I said there were only a couple of steps.” T.J. shrugged. “You eat it, I guess. If you’re really longing for a third step. But, really, that’s all there is to it.” 

Cyrus thought of what Buffy or Jonah would say in this situation. He wrinkled his nose, “I can’t do that.” 

T.J. chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s another thing. You get this crease between your eyebrows when you’re thinking about what other people will think of you.” He relaxed against the lockers, raking his eyes over Cyrus unabashedly, “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do.” 

Cyrus shook his head, “No offense, but that sounds like a death mission.” 

“Fine, guess you’ll be letting your anxiety limit you for the rest of your life, right?” T.J. quirked a brow at Cyrus’s angry expression. “I’m just saying, as someone on the outside looking in, you have way more potential than you give yourself credit for. I’d hate to see it go to waste.” He glanced back toward the art classroom. “I should go. Bex is giving me lessons in math.” 

“Isn’t she an art teacher?” Cyrus asked stupidly. 

“That she is.” T.J. winked again, walking backward in the direction of the room. “Don’t forget to tell Buffy what I said! I’ll see you later, Cyrus!” 

Cyrus allowed his jaw to drop as he rummaged once more through his lunch sack, pulling out the chocolate-chocolate chip muffin. He sniffed it before taking a big bite, but he thought it might taste better if he had attained it himself from the cafeteria, just as Teej described it. He ignored the urge to do it, the desire to do something crazy bubbling in the bottom of his stomach as he considered the implications of such an action. What would people think of him? His stomach growled, and he realized he still hadn’t  _ actually  _ eaten anything other than that muffin. He just needed to deliver the hangover bag to Jonah, and he could eat at Jonah’s house later when they played video games. Only, the last time Cyrus had seen the hangover bag, it had been in T.J. Kippen’s hand. He cursed, “Dangnabbit.” There was no way he was risking seeing that fit basketball player again. He couldn’t believe he had ever thought of T.J. Kippen as cute. Hot, even. The taller boy was infuriating, absolutely smug, one of the most caring and understanding people Cyrus Goodman had ever met in his life.  _ Wait, did he actually just say that?  _ He shook his head. There was no way he could crush on or even be friends with someone Buffy didn’t approve of. Jonah wore her nerves down enough. 

_ Jonah _ . He pulled his lip between his teeth as he marched in the direction of the cafeteria, where Jonah, Buffy, and Marty were just leaving. “Hey, Jonah, I--” 

“Yeah, Cy, we’ll catch up later,” Jonah interrupted him as he chased after Kira Thompson, the new transfer from Monroe High School. 

Cyrus patted down any feelings of jealousy as he shot Buffy an overexaggerated smile. Buffy returned a sad one of her own. “Cyrus, there’s nothing wrong with needing distance. You haven’t fully been over Jonah since you started liking him in middle school. Some space in order to get over that is way more acceptable than putting yourself through  _ this _ .” She threw her hands up, “This is getting unhealthy and toxic!” 

“It isn’t,” he promised. He’d rather not be talking about this, especially not around Marty, who just looked like he didn’t care one way or another about all of this. “Can we just go to class?” 

“Fine.” Buffy gave up, but not without a long and dramatic exhale in Cyrus’s direction. “Now will you explain why you want me to make amends with T.J. Kippen. I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.” 

Cyrus shrugged, adjusting the straps of his bag on his shoulders, “We’re not.” 

“Oh?” Buffy quirked a brow. “Then why so invested in my forgiving him?” 

Cyrus blushed, “It isn’t like that.” 

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Sure it isn’t. You know, Cyrus, you have a type.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “You love athletic divas with big smiles.” Her face turned to horror in an instant, “Though I imagine T.J. looks more like the Joker than a Cheshire cat when he smiles.” She shuddered. 

“That isn’t funny.” Cyrus shoved her in the arm. “Are you at least going to hear him out?” 

Buffy pursed her lips, moving them from side to side as though considering it. Finally, she caved. “Fine!” Cyrus jumped up and down excitedly. She pointed a finger in his direction. “But you have to make me a promise.” 

Cyrus offered a grin that showed all of his teeth, “What is it?” 

Buffy’s own smile dimmed, “You have to promise me you’ll stay away from him.” 

Cyrus felt his face fall. “What? Why do I have to do that? We aren’t even friends.” 

“Exactly,” Buffy nodded, “So it won’t hurt to leave him alone. Not if you aren’t interested in him, that is. You have enough friends.” She nudged Marty in the ribs, and he pouted, “Isn’t that right, Marty?” 

“What?” Marty blinked as Buffy kicked him in the leg, “Oh, yeah, yeah.” 

Cyrus felt his bottom lip quivering, “Why would you say that?” 

Buffy put her arm around Cyrus’s neck, “Listen, Cyrus, it’s hard enough for me to see you answer to Jonah’s every call and  _ Beck _ .” She nudged him playfully, “Get it? ‘Cause he’s Jonah  _ Beck _ ?” Any other time, Cyrus would have laughed, but he was too bummed out currently to do anything. “Fine, whatever, that was funny.” Marty made a face like he wanted to argue that. “My point is if you think Jonah’s bad, T.J. is another beast entirely.” 

But  _ he  _ didn’t think Jonah was bad. She did. He wanted to tell her that, but he knew it would just make Buffy mad. Instead, he nodded his head gravely, “Okay.” 

“Really?” she asked. Cyrus nodded, and she tightened her hold on him. “Awesome! I’ll just talk to T.J. after practice. But this better be the freaking Taj Mahal of apologies.” Marty shot her a confused glance, and she blew out an angry breath. “By that, I mean it needs to be impressive.” 

“I don’t think that’s how the saying works,” Marty argued while mischief glinted in his irises. 

“Of course that’s how the saying works,” Buffy jabbed him in the chest. 

“It so isn’t,” he laughed, and Cyrus tried to smile at their flirtatious banter. He couldn’t stop thinking, though, about what could have been T.J. Kippen’s friendship. And now he’d never get to experience it. And all because he was doing exactly what Buffy was trying to protect him against--letting people walk all over him. 

_ No _ , he thought,  _ Buffy would never do that.  _

Still, he kept quiet the rest of the day when she spoke to him. 

  
  



	3. Race to Andi Shack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T.J. teaches Cyrus how to ride a bike.

Cyrus was fairly certain he wouldn’t have to worry about T.J., anyway. He just had to go without talking to the boy until Friday night’s game, when Buffy most likely wouldn’t accept his apology, and he had gone without the Kippen boy for seventeen years of his life, nearly eighteen. He was considering this as he strode toward Andi Shack, walking next to his bicycle at a leisurely pace. The bicycle was just for show, really. Everything about riding a bike terrified Cyrus. He had tried when he was little, but he always had this irrational fear of falling. He knew it was stupid, but he didn’t think there was a way to get over it. He had tried everything. He was going through all the places he could’ve gone wrong when he completely ran over someone’s white sneaker and yelped as he jumped away from it. 

There, on the sidewalk, T.J. Kippen stood looking curiously at the bicycle in Cyrus’s hands. Cyrus blushed, eyes staring at the sidewalk rather than the person across from him. “No, ‘hey, T.J., so great to see you! Thanks for putting the ibuprofen and water in your bag so Bex didn’t suspend me for possession of unauthorized drugs on school property!’?” Cyrus was unresponsive, and T.J. shrugged lightly. “I figured it was for a hangover, anyway, though I guess it could’ve been for something else. Or, rather,  _ someone  _ else. You don’t look like a big drinker, Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Muffin.” When Cyrus still failed to communicate, though his brain was short-circuiting at the nickname Teej had given him, T.J. sighed, “I’m just giving you a hard time. Though, honestly, you’re making this just as difficult for me.” He laughed, but Cyrus stood paled and frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. He wanted desperately to break the ice, but that risked breaking something far more important: his friendship with Buffy. T.J. narrowed his eyes, ducking his thumb under Cyrus’s chin in order to lift it. Cyrus was now looking T.J. in the eyes. He didn’t think Teej knew him well enough to see through him quite yet, though. “Oh, I get it. This is about Buffy.” 

Okay, so maybe he did know Cyrus pretty well. Cyrus was an open book, really. He nodded, finally speaking, “Yeah. She plans on talking to you after the game on Friday. The annual girls versus boys charity game. I’ll be cheering her on from the stands, as per usual.” T.J.’s chuckle reminded him that he was straying from the topic again, and he tried to frown and look serious. This only made T.J. laugh harder, though, and Cyrus’s face broke into a guilty smile. He punched the taller boy in the shoulder. “That isn’t funny. I was trying to be mad at you. Buffy made me promise not to hang out with you if she went through with this whole compromise thing.” 

“She’s making you choose?” He tapped his chin in thought. “But you would never make her choose, right?” 

Cyrus sighed, “It’s more complicated than that. Buffy is super protective. She feels like she has to be strong all the time because her mom is off serving the country.” Cyrus cursed, “Dang it. I shouldn’t have told you that.” He jabbed his finger in T.J.’s chest, “Don’t tell her I told you that.” 

“Of course not.” T.J. shook his head, retracting Cyrus’s finger from his chest but holding on to it a bit too long for Cyrus’s liking. Or perhaps it was exactly to his liking, and that’s why it freaked Cyrus out. “So tell me what I should say to make Buffy forgive me and give me permission to hang out with you. It’s not fair for you to be dragged into this too.” 

Cyrus grinned before remembering this was  _ Buffy  _ they were talking about. “Wait, no. That will never work. Buffy’s already stubborn. You’ll be lucky if she forgives you at all.” 

T.J. shrugged, “Come on. There’s got to be  _ something  _ that butters her up. What if I bargain with her? Like, I’ll do her English homework for a week if she forgives me.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “Buffy likes doing homework. That’ll never work. I think your apology can’t be a real apology, you know? She doesn’t like hearing ‘I’m sorry’ as much as she likes hearing she’s right.” 

“She’s right?” Teej repeated. 

Cyrus nodded, “Yeah. Just tell her she’s right about everything.” 

T.J. nodded, “But what if that feels insincere? I can still say some of my own stuff, can’t I?”

Cyrus increased the speed at which he inclined his head, “Yes! She won’t take it if it isn’t genuine.” 

T.J. ruffled Cyrus’s hair, and Cyrus felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “Awesome. Problem solved, then. Now, do you want to tell me why you’re pretending you know how to ride a bike instead of actually riding it?” 

Cyrus frowned, “How’d you know?” 

T.J. pointed to the rust around the kickstand, “That doesn’t look like it’s been used very much. Did you know you kick it up to ride it?” 

Cyrus felt his brows furrow, “Wait, you don’t just lean it to the side so it doesn’t scrape the ground.” 

T.J. laughed, shaking his head before helping Cyrus onto the bike. “C’mon. I’ll teach you. You’ve got to trust me, though.” 

“I do,” Cyrus found himself saying honestly. 

“Good. C’mon. I’ll give you a tour of the bike first.” Cyrus chuckled, his hands warming beneath T.J.’s touch as he introduced him properly to the handlebars at the front. “These are for steering. Or stopping dramatically, if you want.” He slid the bubble gum pink helmet off the edge of the left handle, putting it on Cyrus’s head for him. “Safety first,” he shrugged. A smile made its way onto his face, and Cyrus tilted his head at it. 

“What?” He was awfully smug about it, and T.J. was awfully close to his face. 

Teej smirked, “Nothing. The color just suits you, is all.” 

Cyrus knocked against the helmet on his head, “Oh, okay. So, handlebars, helmet, kickstand…” 

“Pedals,” T.J. continued. He pointed to the things under Cyrus’s feet. “They’re going to get you where you need to go. But, for the love of God, you  _ cannot  _ be afraid to use them.” For a minute, Cyrus imagined T.J. pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek, but the memory was short-lived as T.J. backed away, hands on the back of Cyrus’s seat and between the handlebars. “This black thing in front of the handle is for you to brake, okay? You can also start pedaling the opposite way, but that’s kind of an advanced trick.” Cyrus felt he should be taking notes, but T.J.’s coaxing grin made him think he had this under control. He had read enough WikiHow articles to know how this process went, anyway. He had just always had trouble putting it into action. “You think you’re ready?” 

Cyrus couldn’t help wiggling in excitement, “Yes! I can’t wait to get home and make a song about it.” 

“A song?” T.J. shook his head like he was making a mental note to ask later before moving around to the back of the bicycle and holding on to the handlebars around Cyrus, his abdomen pressed against Cyrus’s back. Cyrus resisted the urge to scoot forward because he was scared. Today was all about conquering his fears, apparently. He merely listened to the soothing sound of T.J. Kippen’s voice. “Take off when you’re ready and know that I’m right behind you.” 

Cyrus nodded, but when he got ready to take off, he stopped before he could put his foot on the pedal, “Wait, T.J., I can’t.” 

T.J.’s sigh sounded frustrated, and Cyrus was just about ready to cower in fear when, in a low and gravelly voice, T.J. bellowed, “What did I say about other people? About those anxious voices in your head?” Then, he gave Cyrus a push as he squealed. “I said not to let them tell you what you can’t do!” There was no turning back now. Despite his massive fear of falling, Cyrus knew the results would turn out worse if he ceased doing anything at all. Instead, he listened to this new voice in his head, T.J.’s voice, telling him exactly what to do, and he realized he trusted it. When he opened his eyes next, T.J. was cheering him on as he made it to a corner and rode around it. “Yes, yes, Cyrus! You’re doing it! You did it!” 

“I’m doing it!” Cyrus yelled out in victory as the wind raced through his hair, sending a rush of adrenaline through his system and pushing him near tears. Jesus Christ, he hated being emotional. “I did it!” He thought it safe to stop at the end of the road before the next block, and as promised, T.J. was right behind him, though he was doing some running to catch up. 

“Cyrus, you did it! Didn’t I tell you you could!” He pulled Cyrus into a quick embrace, leaving the bike abandoned on the side of the road as Cyrus tried not to melt into his warmth. He thought that if he got to hug T.J. after every fear he conquered, he’d feel much more motivated to conquer the rest of the long, long list. 

He stepped away from T.J., still smiling at him, “See. I don’t know why you’re so quiet all the time. You’re great.” 

T.J. grimaced, “Not really. I still have a lot of guilt for some of the stuff I did when I was younger.” He lifted his shoulders quietly, Cyrus hanging on to his every word. “I’m the villain in the story any way it goes. My mistakes lead me to believe that.” Cyrus opened his mouth to contradict this, but T.J. already had his arm around the boy’s neck, pulling him against his side. “So, where were you headed? Should we go to the Spoon and practice my apology to Buffy?” 

Cyrus felt a little light-headed. He had just conquered his first fear, and now he was being asked to hang out with a guy who wasn’t Jonah. “Uhm, yeah. Let’s avoid public places until Buffy’s on board with this. I was headed to my friend, Andi Mack’s, art shack. It’s this little hut that doubles as an art studio. It’s pretty cool, actually. Kind of intense but--” Cyrus paused, glancing over at the bemused glint in T.J.’s eye. “Sorry. I’m rambling again, right?” 

“‘S cute,” Teej said, smiling kindly at Cyrus. Cyrus thought T.J. was the nicest boy he’d ever met, much nicer than Jonah, even. “Keep telling me about this Andi Shack.” 

Cyrus smiled lazily, “Andi’s one of my best friends. She’s this really talented artist who is probably going to change the world. I’ll see if I can talk her into making you a bracelet.” He nudged T.J. in the ribs. 

T.J. showed his dimples off again, “Only if it’s green. I want it to match the color of my eyes, y’know?” 

“Of course.” They fell into sync, Teej carrying the bike for Cyrus though Cyrus would never have asked him to. Cyrus thought Teej was quite the gentleman and considered telling him so, but he didn’t want to fall too deep into this T.J. thing. He had made that mistake once with Jonah. 

T.J. seemed to sense something was wrong with Cyrus as they took another turn. “What’s wrong? You’re all quiet.” 

“I don’t talk all the time, you know,” Cyrus meant it to come out as a joke, but it came out with a bitter edge. 

T.J. nodded, “I know that.” 

_ He wasn’t mad at him?  _ If he had done that to Jonah, Jonah would have flipped. Cyrus studied T.J. with awe once again. “You’re very understanding, did you know  _ that _ ?” 

He shrugged, “Amber and mom fight a lot. I had to learn at an early age how to read facial expressions to keep things civil between the two. I guess I’m pretty good at knowing what people need. Well, besides myself. I do really stupid things when my emotions run high in any direction." 

It sounded like a warning, but even the sourest of T.J.’s moods couldn’t ward Cyrus off. “I think human beings do that in general.” 

“Maybe.” Cyrus knew T.J. felt he had spoken too much. If he could give T.J. even an ounce of self-confidence he would. It was interesting, comparing T.J. to himself. Where Cyrus was grounded in the people who loved him and had a sense of security that only his anxiety could rob him of, T.J. seemed to lack that support system and have no foundation for it. If he had anxiety like Cyrus or any demons similar to it, Cyrus thought he was left open to attacks a lot more than Cyrus himself. From experience, Cyrus knew that wouldn’t last long before T.J. fell into a pit of depressive self-loathing, and Cyrus couldn’t stand to see T.J. go through that. Maybe Cyrus could help T.J. find that support system. Cyrus was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice T.J. stop and ran straight into the boy’s back. He stumbled away, muttering a soft apology before he noticed what the boy was staring at. Andi was moving big brown boxes into Andi Shack. Andi Shack had certainly changed since they were in middle school. After Andi was accepted to Shadyside Academy of Visual Arts (SAVA), Mr. and Mrs. Quinn had upgraded Andi to less of a Shack and more of a small home or building. Andi even slept in there sometimes when she had a huge project. She was constantly moving supplies in and out of the Shack for big projects at SAVA. 

Cyrus instinctively took T.J.’s arm in his hand to guide him to greet Andi. Andi stopped in her tracks when she noticed the two boys, setting two boxes down on the grass beside her. “Oh, hi, boys. I was just moving some boxes in for this social sciences project. I’ll either do mine on impostor syndrome or rape culture. Either of you has any requests?” 

T.J.’s eyes were saucers as Cyrus gave Andi a sideways glance, “Yeah, I think rape culture is a really important and vulnerable topic, but they say 1 in 5 women is likely to get raped in the course of her life, so maybe you could leave space just in case for people for whom it hits home? A lot of people know others who have been raped as well. Whereas impostor syndrome is unique to underrepresented minorities, so I--” 

“Exactly what I was thinking!” Andi threw her hands up in victory before extending one out to T.J. to shake. It had a yellow stripe of paint on it, though, and T.J. looked at it hesitantly. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Andi Mack.” She wiped her hand off on her overalls, which were already covered in paint, to prove that it had dried. 

T.J. smiled and nodded, taking her hand in his own and giving it a firm shake. “I’m T.J. Kippen.” 

Andi’s expression narrowed momentarily before she masked it with a polite smile, but she still gave Cyrus a worried glance. “T.J. Kippen. Yeah, I think I remember you from middle school.” 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that,” T.J. apologized, a scowl making its way on his face, “I was a real jerk back then. If I ever did anything to hurt you, I’m really sorry about it.” 

“No, that’s okay. We were all a little out there in middle school. Finding ourselves, and all that,” Andi gave a kind dip of her head. “Would you like to see Andi Shack? I’m sure Cyrus has told you all about it.” She was pushing him inside before he even answered, and she shook Cyrus by the shoulders for an explanation. “You brought T.J. Kippen to my house? So he could, what, kill the puppy I just convinced Bex and Bowie to get?” She shook her head, “I can be pretty forgiving, Cyrus, but after what he said to Buffy? I don’t know if I can forgive that.” 

“Well, we’re working on an apology to Buffy for all that!” Cyrus interjected. “Just give him a chance. You could even help us with our apology if you wanted. T.J. feels really sorry about who he was in the past, and, honestly, Andi, I think he could use some friends.” 

Andi frowned, arms crossed over her chest. “He’s also Amber’s brother, you know. We have a very mutual hatred for one another.” 

“But T.J. isn’t his sister,” Cyrus begged, “Please help us. Don’t you trust my judgment?” 

Andi drew out a long breath before giving in, “Fine, but if he steals anything from Andi Shack--” 

He engulfed Andi in a long and slow embrace. “Thank you,” he expressed his gratitude. 

“You’re welcome.” As they entered Andi Shack, they noticed T.J. admiring some of the canvas and watercolor paintings Andi had hung on the walls from her time spent at SAVA. Of course, there were hand-made and upcycled crafts whereabouts around the shack, but nothing was as eye-catching as some of the works of art incorporating pieces of pipe of metal Andi had salvaged from a junkyard and turned into a metaphor for the second-wave feminism. 

T.J. heard footsteps and turned around, looking at Andi with a newfound appreciation, “Cyrus wasn’t exaggerating. You’re great at this.” 

“Thanks.” Cyrus knew things would still be awkward between Teej and Andi, but he was glad they were making the first step. T.J. came to stand next to Cyrus, rubbing his hand up and down Cyrus’s back in a comforting pattern that made Cyrus relax. Andi raised her brows at this but didn’t ask Cyrus any questions. “So, I heard you need help getting off Buffy’s shit list.” 

T.J. scratched his head, “I’m afraid that’s true, yeah.” 

Andi grinned, “This is the perfect prompt for an art project.” 


	4. Hide-and-Seek-and-Janitor's-Closets

The days leading up to Friday felt like years as Cyrus repeatedly told himself to stay away until Buffy (possibly) forgave T.J. For instance, when Cyrus was walking to the bathroom and saw T.J. in the office helping out the staff, an assistant’s badge hung around his neck, he had to tamp down the urge to wave at the taller and far more athletic man. He ducked his head quickly, but not before T.J. saw him and gave him a huge wave, stepping out of the office excitedly. “Hey, Cy! I was just organizing some files for Patty. Want to help me?” 

Cyrus hated himself for asking, but with the rumors surrounding T.J. and his past, he pressed on, “Why are you helping? Is it your punishment for something you did or something?” 

T.J.’s smile didn’t leave his face, but it significantly dimmed as he tucked a pencil behind his ear. Cyrus considered how he did the exact same thing when he was focused. Was T.J. focused on something, or did it mean something else? Nervousness, possibly? “No, actually. I mean, I get service hours for it, but I really like helping out there. It’s almost therapeutic. I think it’s something you’d like, if you wanted me to give you a good word for next semester.” Teej winked at him, and all self-restraint left Cyrus at that moment. 

“Really? You think we could work in the office together?” A pink tint washed over his features once he realized how eager he sounded, but T.J. merely chuckled. “I mean… sorry I assumed. That was pretty unfair.” 

“It’s okay. I deserve it. I have a past I’m not proud of.” T.J. shrugged lightly, opening the door to the office to tell them he’d be just a minute. Cyrus recognized the other assistant as Libby and waved enthusiastically as she waved back. T.J. twirled his finger in the air above them. “Want to take a lap around the school?” 

“But Buffy--” 

“She’s in calc.” In response to Cyrus’s prying gaze, T.J. shrugged, “What? We have access to all the student schedules, and it’s not like I haven’t thought about interrupting one of her classes to apologize to her. I weighed my options, though, and the cons outweighed the pros. Like, make a scene. Pro. Buffy has a flair for the dramatic.” Cyrus nodded vigorously at that. “But risk detention and/or expulsion from Grant High School? Or suffer the wrath of Amber and my parents? Triple con, Cy.” He tilted his head toward the boy, “What class are you in right now?” 

“Free period,” Cyrus answered robotically before twisting his lips into a grin, “Wait, did you know that, too? Is that why you knew I’d say yes to a lap?” 

T.J. gave a flippant shrug in response, “Depends. You haven’t said yes yet.” 

_ Oh _ , Cyrus thought,  _ he is smooth.  _ He ignored the surge of butterflies in his stomach and the thoughts in his brain telling him that T.J. was flirting with him. “Fine. Yes.” 

“Then I  _ might  _ know your schedule,” he lifted his lips. They were passing the computer science labs, and Cyrus knew Jonah would be in one of these classes.  _ Gibbons. Room 334.  _ Cyrus peered through the glass in the door, waving at Jonah, who waved back with that million-dollar smile of his. T.J. took this all in, staring at Cyrus with pursed lips, “So you’re dating the Beck boy, is that it? The one with the smile that hurts my eyes, right?” 

Cyrus was baffled by this, “What? No! He’s my best friend!” 

“Oh,” T.J. said, sounding a little between relief and sadness, “I didn’t mean to offend.” 

_ Dang it.  _ Cyrus tugged on T.J.’s elbow gently, meeting the boy’s eyes despite the distance of a head between them. “No, I’m not offended. I’m not homophobic or anything like that. I thought everyone knew I was--but I guess I overestimate the total amount of friends I have, too.” Cyrus’s thoughts began wondering, and T.J. had to clear his throat to snap him out of it. “Oh, right. Well, I’m gay. It’s just, Jonah and I are just friends. He isn’t interested.” 

T.J. raised a brow, “But you are?”

Cyrus felt suddenly that he had  _ way  _ overshared what needed to be said. He blushed, “I didn’t say that. Can we talk about something different?” 

“No, it’s okay, it’s just… Jonah seems like a great guy. Sometimes, he just seems a little in his own head.” Now, T.J. was blushing, and Cyrus thought of what he could possibly have thought or said to embarrass him. “Forget I asked. I overstepped. It’s my bad.” 

“Oh, no. I love talking about myself. Sometimes to a fault,” Cyrus laughed, “I just forget sometimes that other people aren’t always so ready to hear my whole life story, you know? I can be pretty intense.” 

“I think intense is good,” T.J. observed, kicking his feet out in front of him. “People like you have to exist to balance people like me out. It’s like, the natural order of the world, or something like that.” 

Cyrus felt his lips stretch further up at that, “That’s a nice way of looking at it. Not that your whole broody thing isn’t attractive.” Once Cyrus realized what he had said, he covered his face with his hands, feeling his heart speed up in his chest, “I mean, not attractive. Did I say attractive?” 

“You did,” T.J. chirped. 

Cyrus thought he’d die then. “I meant attractive in the literal rather than traditional sense. Like, you attract a lot of attention with your looming mysterious act. Well, not an act, really. You’re just very--” Cyrus struggled to find the right word for it. 

“Attractive,” Teej finished for him, “In the nontraditional sense.” 

“Exactly!” Cyrus snapped his fingers like he had accomplished something despite T.J. doing all the heavy lifting. 

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He scratched his head with a laugh, “I think? I don’t know. You’re kind of all over the place, Cyrus. Intense.” 

“But you like it,” Cyrus filled in. 

“Yeah,” T.J. nodded as they headed down another corridor, “I like it very much.” Cyrus felt all of a sudden on fire, but it was short-lived. Once he realized they were walking down the math hall, he hid behind the taller man. T.J. suppressed a laugh. “Not that this game isn’t fun, but why are we playing it?” 

“Buffy can’t see me with you. What if she’s going to the bathroom or something?” Cyrus suggested. 

“I feel like Buffy would take even going to the bathroom during class as a challenge,” T.J. laughed. Cyrus slugged him in the arm. “Ow. That’s not very nice, Cy, to injure someone you’re using to shield you from your  _ totally irrational fear _ .” 

“Sorry, I just… Buffy’s friendship means everything to me.” He heaved a huge sigh of relief when they rounded the next corner. 

“I get it, Cyrus.” There was a slight edge to T.J.’s voice, and he realized stupidly that he had just offended the man. 

He tried to backtrack. “Oh, wow, sorry. Not that your friendship doesn’t, I just--” 

T.J. dismissed it with a forced bark of laughter, “It’s fine, Cyrus. I’m not upset.” 

Cyrus put his hand on the other’s boy’s arm, “Are you sure? I’d hate to have hurt you.” 

“Cyrus, you actually couldn’t hurt a fly.” He dragged his fingers through his hair with his free hand, Cyrus’s still holding the other back. “Don’t worry so much about me. I’m moody and broody and irritable. That’s the price of my friendship, I guess. I can totally see why Buffy doesn’t want us to be friends.” 

“Uhm, no offense, but those are lies, Mister.” He clucked T.J. on the nose and kept talking so as not to be embarrassed about it, “You might have  _ emotions _ , but you rarely ever act on them. That’s like the exact opposite of those three words you just gave me. And I’d be willing to pay just about any price for your friendship. It means a lot to me, you know.” 

“You don’t have to lie, Cyrus.” He laughed, but it resembled a snarl much more. “We haven’t known each other very long, and I’m always going to be clouded by my past. I won’t rush you to hold me to the same caliber as your other friends. It’s going to take time. I get that. But don’t lie to me. Please?” 

“T.J., I’m not--” He wanted to thwack the boy on his thick skull. 

“Cyrus,  _ please _ .” When did T.J. Kippen get so cute? Cyrus didn’t picture him as the kind of guy to make puppy dog eyes, but here he was, using his intoxicating green irises and absolutely irresistible pout to lure Cyrus in. 

Cyrus gulped, “Okay.” 

“Thank you,” T.J. sounded genuinely appreciative. Cyrus finally looked around and realized they were taking the longest possible route around the school. 

He whined, “But Teee-jaaaayyy!” This was as embarrassing as it got, and if T.J. couldn’t stick this out, their friendship was headed in no direction. 

T.J. seemed only to find it amusing as he laughed, “Yeah, what?” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “I have a bio one-eleven exam tomorrow morning. I have flashcards to study and everything.” 

T.J. pinched the bridge of his nose in what looked like an attempt to stop himself from laughing. “Just use osmosis.” 

Cyrus frowned, unimpressed. “That joke doesn’t even make sense, you know,” he informed him, slamming into T.J.’s back yet again as the boy came to a stop in front of him. “Wait, T.J., why are we stopping?” 

“Shh,” T.J. urged, grabbing Cyrus by the arms and pushing him into the nearest supply closet with him. 

Cyrus frowned, his heart thumping in his chest as he waited for T.J. to speak, “T.J., what’s happening.” 

T.J. put his index finger over his lips, pushing Cyrus to be quiet though the boy had only been whispering. “Be quiet, Cyrus. Buffy was out there delivering something to Coach Watkins. I’m trying to hear her footsteps.” He let his head rest against the wooden door as Cyrus tried not to hyperventilate. He had known this was a risk, so why did he follow T.J. in the first place? His mind answered him right back,  _ because you trust him and like spending time with him.  _ He was still contemplating this when, a few minutes later, T.J. nodded his head. “Okay, I think we’re safe now. It’s been more than a few minutes.” 

Cyrus nodded too, but neither of them moved. Cyrus felt blindly along the door, unable to see anything, until his fingers brushed up against T.J.’s. “Oh, sorry, I can’t see a thing. Is there a light switch or--?” He pushed his weight forward, landing on his tiptoes as he reached above him for a light. He should have known not to trust his unreliable body, though, as his limbs caved on him and sent him tumbling in the direction of the mops and brooms. Luckily--or unluckily--T.J. slid swiftly to intercept him, sending the blonde boy crashing into cleaning carts behind him, Cyrus straddling him unintentionally. Okay, so this was as embarrassing as it got. “Oh, oh my God. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I-- Let me just--” But the more he twisted, the more he  _ felt _ and the redder his face grew and the fainter he got. 

“Cyrus!” T.J. finally cut in, grabbing both of the boy’s wrists to halt any movement from him. 

Cyrus deflated, “Oh, sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing,” T.J. laughed, “But you have to stop getting so  _ embarrassed _ . I know that isn’t really great advice, but you’re too awkward of a person not embrace it. Use it as a superpower, not a weakness. You can learn to laugh off any situation. Well, not my  _ situation _ , but--” He gestured to his front. 

The tips of Cyrus’s ears were pink as he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid seeing anything he wasn’t ready to respond to yet (more like didn’t know how). “I didn’t--” He  _ hadn’t _ \-- He--  _ Ugh.  _

“I know, Cyrus,” T.J. laughed again, coming to a stand and allowing the other boy to join him by helping him up, “I’m just teasing you. You can hit me for it later.” 

“I’ll hit you for it  _ now _ .” And he did. He placed a soft punch on the green-eyed boy’s arm, and T.J. seemed to smile brighter at it. 

“Great. I was sort of hoping you might. That way I could do  _ this _ !” Before Cyrus knew what to expect, T.J. was tickling the boy in his sides, making Cyrus laugh like a hyena, gross and humiliating though he could do nothing to stop it. 

“Wait, T.J., I-- _ hahahahaha _ \--Stop that! I can’t-- _ ohmygohahahahaha _ .” He thought he might combust as T.J.’s nails dug into his sides, eliciting from his body a response of pleasure and pain. “T.J., stop it!” When he finally did, Cyrus sagged against the stronger boy, completely spent from it. “How did you…?” he panted, “How did you know I was ticklish?” 

T.J. shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire cat (Cyrus made a note to tell Buffy that), “There are more than just bracelets in Andi Shack.” 

“Unbelievable! She totally sold me out!” Cyrus slugged T.J. again in the shoulder, just for the fun of it, and the two boys did their best to recover from their laughs. Cyrus found the endless pools of T.J.’s eyes pretty sobering, so he looked into them without shame, taking heed to the advice T.J. had just given him. 

T.J. brushed a few strands of un-gelled hair out of his eyes, and Cyrus resisted the urge to play with it. “So is this a supply closet or a custodial closet? Because I’m getting really different vibes.” 

Cyrus paused to glance around the room and laughed, “I guess it’s a double agent.” 

“You are so weird, Cyrus Goodman.” T.J. wrapped his arm around Cyrus’s back, pulling him in to cuddle against his side. It was the closest they had come to recreating the position from the first night they’d met--well, formally, anyway. 

Cyrus smiled up at T.J., “You too. You’re totally shirking your secretarial responsibilities.” 

T.J. chortled at that, “I am not a  _ secretary _ . Child’s play. I’m a  _ receptionist _ .” 

Cyrus nodded sarcastically, “Oh, yeah, the ID card draped around your neck  _ totally  _ lists your occupation as receptionist.” 

“Pfft. That’s because I’m undercover. I mean, imagine the danger if you knew my real job title. We’d no longer be inconspicuous.” 

Cyrus beamed, “Someone’s been reading that SAT vocab list I emailed him.” 

He was so close to his face that he could feel T.J. blushing, “Shut up. Everyone knows what inconspicuous means.” 

Cyrus leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Oh, yeah? What about… mm… exacerbate?” 

T.J. guffawed, “Totally small potatoes. It’s like… when Buffy had that foot injury when she ran that marathon. If she  _ exacerbated  _ that, she’d make it worse.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose in excitement rather than disdain, “You  _ have  _ been studying it! That’s so cute!” 

T.J. laughed as Cyrus balked at his own stupid mouth, “Let me guess, in a nontraditional and dictionary-literal sense, right?” 

Cyrus grimaced, “I regret the day I called you my friend.” 

T.J. laughed once more, but it was distant. “You will one day if you haven’t yet.” 

“T.J.--” Cyrus tried stopping him, but T.J. was already getting up and extending his hand to help Cyrus. 

“Let’s go, Underdog.” 

Cyrus frowned, “I don’t get it.” 

“You will,” T.J. promised, opening the door and placing a hand on the small of Cyrus’s back as he guided him back to the school’s entrance. “I got that list of fears you sent me. Think you could meet me by the swings in the park this evening at seven?” 

Cyrus shuffled his weight from foot to foot, “I’m not sure. I think Jonah and I have a video game night planned.” T.J.’s smile flattened, and Cyrus jumped to correct it, “Wait, no! I’m sure I can slip away for a bit. I’ll tell him I have to study or something.” 

“Study what? The basketball captain?” Cyrus knew T.J. probably didn’t say it with conviction, but he found himself feeling flushed nonetheless. T.J.’s own cheeks grew a considerable shade darker, and he swatted Cyrus on the back of the head gently, “You’re not as innocent as you look, Muffin. Your head is  _ always  _ in the gutter.” 

“That isn’t…” But Cyrus didn’t have the energy to argue with him. That, or he didn’t want to admit T.J. was right. It could go either way, honestly. Instead, he clung to T.J.’s arm until it was time for them to go their separate ways, and Cyrus thought again of how much of a challenge it would pose to stay away from T.J. Kippen. Because with each smoldering gaze and gentle hand-brush, Cyrus was falling deeper and deeper into the same hole it had taken years for him to dig himself out of. For once in his life, he looked forward to seeing someone else again so much that he missed them, someone other than Andi, Buffy, or Jonah. 

He spent the rest of that day listing ways not to think about T.J. Kippen. 


	5. Lessons in Swing-sets and Prioritizing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm REALLY sorry if there are typos here that I missed. I've been writing on like three hours of sleep so I don't lose the flow of my ideas while I'm writing and it's left me with THIS. Super DUPER sorry. With that said, I hope you enjoy!! :)

Jonah threw a handful of popcorn back into his mouth as Cyrus hit a few random buttons on his game controller to entertain Jonah. In the other hand, he was scrolling through videos of puppies on his phone. Jonah continued to talk over Cyrus’s disinterest. “And so, I’m asking for her number, and she totally turns me down! Says she’s already got her eye on someone at the school. She asks me about T.J. Kippen. Starts asking if he has a girlfriend, what types of girls he’s into, what sorts of things he  _ likes _ . And I’m like, dude, I don’t even know if T.J.’s into chicks or dudes--” 

It took Cyrus a moment, but he finally registered what Jonah was saying and jolted forward, “Wait, who’s asking about Kippen?” 

Jonah killed Cyrus for the thirty-fourth time in a row, turning the game off to let his system cool down as he faced Cyrus, offering him another slice of pizza. Cyrus politely declined, waiting eagerly for Jonah to continue. “The transfer, Kira Thompson. Are you even listening to me, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus felt like a deer in headlights, totally caught as he turned his phone off, “Of course, Jonah. I was just seeing when Andi said she’d get here. She’s running a little late, and she’s bringing Walker with her.” 

“Oh, docious-magocious. Dude’s a sick shot with a sniper.” Jonah threw his head back in admiration, and Cyrus checked the time on his watch anxiously. He needed Andi to get here soon. It was fifteen ‘til, and he was afraid Teej would think Cyrus had bailed on him. Jonah jerked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “You know you can always help yourself, man, but do you maybe want a soda?” 

Cyrus nodded, “Grape’s fine, thank you.”  _ Grape’s fine, thank you?  _ Jonah would definitely know something was up if Cyrus kept talking all politely. Cyrus hadn’t done that since ninth grade when Jonah told him he might not get made fun of as much if he didn’t make it so easy. In that same lecture, he had made fun of the way Cyrus talking, saying he sounded like a walking encyclopedia rather than a  _ normal  _ human being. Cyrus always hated that word,  _ normal _ . 

Cyrus could hear Jonah talking, voice filtering from the kitchen into the living room, “So are Andi and Walker, like, back together?” 

“Uhm, I’m not sure,” Cyrus called back. “I’m almost always the last to know, but I really think they’re just friends now. How are you and Amber?” 

He heard Jonah choke on his soda, “The last time I talked to her--” He could hear Jonah’s voice drawing closer, “--She threatened to slit my stuffed panda’s throat. I totally forgot our anniversary. I mean, when you throw around phrases like  _ I-love-you _ , a dude starts to want space, you know?” Cyrus most certainly did not know, but for Jonah’s sake, he nodded anyway. “But me and Andiman are cool. Some days, I still wonder if we might work out… I guess we’ll never know.” He adjusted his position on the couch cushion just as the doorbell rang. “Get that for me, Cy-Guy?” 

Cyrus nodded and walked gladly toward the door. When he opened it, Andi and Walker were giving one another death glares. Without greeting Cyrus, Walker walked in, yelling at Jonah loudly, “Jonah, please tell your ornery ex that  _ Game of Thrones  _ is  _ way _ better than  _ Lord of the Rings _ .” 

“I’m your ex, too, dimwit, no matter how much you wish I wasn’t!” Andi lowered her voice to hug Cyrus, “Hey, Cyrus. Tell me you’re staying to help me get through their mansplaining and bro talk and  _ not  _ meeting up with T.J. Kippen.” 

Cyrus blinked, shocked, “How’d you know?” 

She placed a delicate kiss on his cheek before giving it a light slap, “He’s waiting outside for you. He has flowers and everything.” Cyrus felt his eyes grow wide and hoped to further question her, but she was already yelling at the boys yet again. “Harry Potter rivals both of those series, skull-heads!” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, calling behind him, “I’m stepping out for a bit, Jonah, I’ll be back soon!” 

“Okay, Cy-Guy, see you at school!” So much for Jonah missing him. Cyrus rolled his eyes but felt his anger dim a significant amount as T.J. Kippen shuffled his feet in front of Jonah’s car, a bouquet of orchids in his hand. Cyrus walked over quietly, hoping to surprise T.J., who yelped when Cyrus tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Oh, hey, Cyrus. Look, I’m sorry about just showing up here. I realize I put a lot of pressure on you to leave this thing you had with Jonah, and I wanted to apologize to you for it, but--” 

Cyrus’s curiosity would probably be the death of him. He took T.J.’s wrist in his grip, gesturing toward the flowers in his hand, “Who are those for?” 

“Oh.” A light pink dusting fell over T.J.’s cheeks, and Cyrus felt himself swoon at it. “Those are for you. They were part of my apology. I guess I’m getting in practice. For Buffy, I mean. Though she’s certainly not the reason I’m doing this.” 

Cyrus laughed, “Look who’s rambling now.” 

T.J.’s blushed deepened, and Cyrus thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. T.J. cleared his throat before speaking again, “If it’s weird, I can just pretend I never showed up, drop these back at the flower shop, go to that park we planned to meet at by myself, use the sandbox to dig myself a hole to crawl into, and never resurface again.” 

Cyrus couldn’t help laughing. He really had thought of everything. “Oh, yeah?” He shifted his weight forward so he was standing on his tiptoes and brushed the stray strands of hair out of T.J.’s face, “I think I’d like to see that. You with sand everywhere, I mean. I get surfer vibes from you. Ever done it?” 

T.J. gasped, shocked, “Wow, so that’s really what you think of me? I’m just a surfer dude who spends my time at the beach? You think I’m just another pretty face, is that it?” He winked, sending Cyrus’s heart hammering away in his chest, and Cyrus didn’t think he had the energy or strength to keep playing at whatever game this was. T.J. seemed to sense Cyrus’s declining levels of playfulness and relaxed his grin into a polite smile, offering Cyrus the flowers again, “So, I’m guessing you  _ aren’t  _ weirded out by the fact that a guy bought you flowers? For totally apology-related reasons,” he stressed. “I know it isn’t the most masculine of apologies.” 

“Ugh, give me a break,” Cyrus groaned as he took the bouquet from T.J.’s hands and tucked them safely in the basket at the front of his bike which he could now ride thanks to T.J. “Masculinity doesn’t have to be  _ so toxic.  _ You’re allowed to like flowers, T.J. They’re one of nature’s most alluring products.” 

“ _ Such  _ a dork,” T.J. poked fun at him. “You’re not mad I showed up here, right? I did that thing again with the pro/con list. While I figured you might be upset about Jonah seeing us together, I knew I’d get some brownie points for making the apology seem really urgent and dramatic. You’re a sucker for drama, I’m learning.” 

Cyrus guffawed, “Wow, you really think you have me all figured out, huh?” 

T.J. lifted his lips a fraction, “Maybe. It’s my mission to see the things no one else sees, however.” He let that sink in for a minute before tilting his head in the direction of the park, “So, should we go, or am I still in trouble for being all whiny about your plans with Jonah?” 

“It’s kind of cute when you whine,” Cyrus blurted before thinking better of it. At T.J.’s wholehearted laugh, he felt his cheeks warm, “In the totally nontraditional and dictionary-literal sense.” 

“And what’s the dictionary definition of cute, Cyrus?” Their hands brushed as they walked alongside one another, headed in the direction of the swingset. “Is it a picture of you blushing? Because I’m starting to learn  _ all the ways  _ to do  _ that _ .” 

Cyrus’s face was so hot that he blew out a breath, praying a breeze would sweep away the warmth in his cheeks, “That’s not really fair. The first time we met, you were handcuffed to a bed. How was I  _ not  _ supposed to blush at that?” 

“I’m starting to think you might’ve liked that image a little too much,” T.J. teased, and Cyrus felt his brain explode inside his head. 

“If you’re going to be so good at teasing, could you not subject me to it?” Cyrus snapped, trying to sound angry as he wrinkled his nose. 

T.J. laughed, “How am I supposed to stop when it gets you to do that?” He swiped at Cyrus’s nose with the knuckle of his finger, and even that slight contact sent Cyrus’s brain into overdrive. 

He swatted T.J.’s hands away and continued trying to look mad, “Whatever. You’re going to wish you hadn’t teased me one day. I’m going to get the upper hand.” 

“What do you mean?” T.J. looked truthfully confused, “You already have the upper hand.” 

Cyrus felt his brows furrow, “Huh? Why do you say that?” 

But Kippen made a motion like he was zipping his lips. Then, he whispered, “You’ll figure it out.” 

“You’re a huge flirt, you know that?” Cyrus shook his head, “And a tease. It’s no wonder everyone’s intimidated by you.” 

T.J. threw his head back and laughed, “Why? Wouldn’t me being a flirt be a  _ good  _ thing?” 

Cyrus scowled, “Hard no. If you’re a flirt  _ all the time _ , no one knows when you’re being serious.” 

“Cyrus,” T.J. placed a hand on either of the boy’s arms, bringing his mouth close to Cyrus’s right ear, “I’m  _ always  _ being serious.” 

Cyrus shuddered beneath him, pushing him aside, “Stop that. I’m serious.” 

T.J. laughed again, “I’m serious too!” 

“That isn’t funny, T.J.” Cyrus was still mostly pretending, but there was a bit of truth to his sadness. He had fun when he was with T.J., but their relationship couldn’t be one giant joke to him. That would hurt. A  _ lot _ . 

“Underdog, I’m sorry.” T.J.’s lips turned down in a frown, “I’m not sure how to prove to you that I’m not lying. No matter how playful we get, I’m always being honest with you. Why would I waste my breath and the two brain cells I have to come up with ways to play with your emotions?” He sighed, “I’m guilty of a lot of things, but never that.” 

Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest, but he had already forgiven him, “Fine. Now, to figure out why you’ve been calling me Underdog all this time.” 

T.J. winked as they approached the swings, offering Cyrus the one on the left. Cyrus nodded and sat down, watching T.J. do the same next to him. Cyrus slowly started to swing. He even started singing the song he had written to go with it, “Legs go up, legs go down, that’s how we make the swing go ‘round. Drag your feet, you go slow, the more you drag, the less you go.” He always had loved swinging; it was the place he went to feel better about himself when his self-confidence was sunk--so basically all the time. 

T.J.’s voice was quiet over the small breeze. Cyrus had always wondered what the breeze at max speed would feel like, the wind rushing through his hair as he swung higher and higher, the closest thing to flying he would ever get at, “Nice song.” 

“Thanks,” Cyrus shrugged, “I have one for the slide too: We go down, we say ‘yay.’ We don’t climb up, that’s the wrong way.” 

T.J. tilted his head as he slowed down, “You really have a song for everything, don’t you?” Cyrus nodded his head. “So you said you’re afraid of swinging high. That it’s part of your stuff?” 

Cyrus nodded again, “Yeah, I am.” 

T.J. smirked, “Well, just like last time, you just sort of have to do it and trick your mind into not giving you time to chicken out of it, you know?” Cyrus didn’t like the sound of that, but before he could protest, T.J. was already pushing him sky-high and running underneath him as he yelled, “Underdog!” 

“Tee-jaaay!” Cyrus yelped, laughing maniacally. He couldn’t shake the thrill that spread throughout his body, though. He was closer to flying than he ever thought possible, and he was actually swinging high. He couldn’t afford to be afraid--he was already  _ doing  _ it. “Whoa!” 

T.J. laughed, “You want another one?” 

Cyrus’s anxiety perked up at a chance to get out of this, “No way!” 

“Hmm,” T.J. pulled another heart-stopping pout, “Too bad.” He did it again, and Cyrus thought he might scream--he  _ did  _ scream. After a few more, all sense of time was lost in the sound of Cyrus’s laughs. T.J. was pretty smug with himself, going as far as to ask, “Bet Jonah never did this for you, did he?” 

Cyrus stopped swinging suddenly, “Jonah.” 

The anger made its way onto T.J.’s face without hesitation, “What? Pretty boy need your help or something?”

Cyrus didn’t have time to reduce T.J.’s anger or figure out why he was being that way. He grabbed his cell phone from the grass and checked it for messages. Sure enough, Jonah, Andi, and Walker had texted him. 

_ Jonah: where r u? I need u. things r getting weird w/ andi & walker _

_ Andi: cyrus, jonah’s getting suspicious, and if Walker takes his side on something ONE MORE TIME, I’ll strangle them both _

_ Walker: jonah’s worried abt u. where r u?  _

Cyrus sent T.J. an apologetic frown, “I’m sorry, T.J., I have to go. Jonah, Walker and Andi--” 

“I get it. You don’t want me to walk you back, right?” T.J. shook his head, grabbing his cell phone aggressively. “I really wish you’d see that you could do so much better.” 

“Than my friends?” Cyrus felt his anger growing with every second he and Jonah were apart. 

T.J. gave Cyrus a knowing, aggravated look, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Cyrus. You don’t have to be his lapdog to protect yourself from getting rejected again. Believe me when I say I know how that story goes.” 

Cyrus felt tears prickle behind his eyes, and he hated fighting with T.J. like this, “Shut up!” He stepped away from him, “What’s ‘so much better’ supposed to be? You? Jonah’s my friend whether you like that or not. And I can guarantee he’s never done anything to hurt you!” 

“You can guarantee that, can you?” T.J. shook his head incredulously, “Unbelievable. Sorry if I have to  _ spell this out for you _ , but I already know I’m not good enough for you. The closer I get to you, the more I start to think that no one ever will be. But you should surround yourself with people who would gladly die trying. Because that’s what you would do for him, isn’t it?” He didn’t give Cyrus time to answer. “He hurts you, he hurts me. Get that? Because we’re  _ friends _ . Wait, I forgot, we aren’t, are we? Not until Buffy waves her magic wand of forgiveness. I admit I did a lot of stupid crap when I was younger, hell, even now, but I would  _ never  _ make you choose.” He put his finger in Cyrus’s chest, and for the first time since meeting T.J., Cyrus cowered under it. T.J.’s eyes glazed over with a sheen of…  _ tears?  _ He stumbled away from Cyrus, “Cyrus, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, I just--” 

“Go,” Cyrus’s voice sounded small to his own ears. “Just go, T.J.” 

“But, Cyrus, I--”

“ _ Go _ .” T.J. finally nodded and left. 

Cyrus’s phone continued to beep with messages in his pocket, but he didn’t respond to or even look at any of them. Not even the ones from Jonah. Because despite how unfair T.J.’s temperament might have been, it didn’t make his feelings any less valid or his words any less true. Cyrus thought that might have been the real reason he had sent T.J. away from him. When Cyrus opened the door to Jonah’s house, Andi was the one to greet him. She was reading his facial expression, Cyrus could tell, and he bristled at her comforting touch. “Cyrus, are you okay?” 

Jonah’s voice carried all the way from the living room, “Cyrus, thank God you’re here, why didn’t you answer any of my texts?” 

Walker was in the kitchen, cheese doodles in his mouth as his brows furrowed, “Oh. You look like you just got your heart broken.” 

_ He had to teach Cyrus how to do that.  _ Cyrus shook his head, waving his hand lazily in Jonah’s direction, “Sorry, JB. Mom needed my help with something. It was kind of last-minute, so I didn’t text. I was too tired to text on the way back.” Cyrus crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping Jonah would buy this crap story. Andi sent Cyrus a frown that looked conflicted between disappointment and concern. 

“Oh, okay then. Well, I’m just glad you made it back. Play me in zombies?” And, just like that, Cyrus blew out a decisive breath. Because Jonah hadn’t even asked if he was okay. Even Andi and Walker had expressed concern, in their own ways. 

Cyrus didn’t know what to do, however, with a revelation like that. So, he took the controller from Jonah’s other hand, “Sure. What difficulty level?”

  
  



	6. Flirting Galore and Secrets No More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, super sorry for the typos! Also, in this AU, Amber and Iris are the same age as T.J. and the GHC. I was going to try and somehow make them older, but I think it just worked better this way. That might change when I go back and edit, though. Anyway, enjoy!! :)

Cyrus slammed his locker shut without much thought, yelping and falling onto his butt when T.J. basically apparated against the locker beside it. “Ow, T.J., don’t do that!” T.J. laughed but did so hesitantly as though afraid he wasn’t yet permitted. Cyrus frowned, “What do you want?” T.J. crossed his arms over his chest, raking his eyes over Cyrus like he hadn’t seen him in ages and wanted to take all of him in. It made Cyrus blush, and Cyrus hated that T.J. would probably always have that effect on him. T.J. swiped a thumb along his lower lip before licking it, bringing Cyrus’s attention to T.J.’s lips and making him stare. The longer Cyrus watched T.J.’s lips, the redder T.J.’s face got, and the more awkward the whole situation became. Cyrus blinked away his thoughts, studying his books rather than the man in front of him, “Well, if you’re just going to give me the silent treatment, I can’t forgive you, can I?” 

“You’re going to forgive me?” The boy’s voice was laced with so much appreciation that Cyrus risked a glance up, smiling softly at him. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I already have.” Then, T.J. pulled Cyrus into an embrace so tight in the middle of the high school hallway that Cyrus blushed, pulling away from him and brushing his hair out of his face, “If I’d known it’d get you to do that, I would’ve forgiven you much sooner.” Once he realized he had actually said that out loud, he covered his mouth with his hand and prayed he’d melt into the floor under him. 

T.J. didn’t seem too affected by it, however, focusing more on Cyrus’s earlier statement, “I’m so glad you’ve forgiven me. It was a really crappy thing of me to do. Caring about you so much I do the same thing I’m telling you  _ not  _ to fall for? That’s silly. I wasn’t trying to make you choose between me and Jonah. I would  _ never  _ make you do that. You can be friends with whomever you want, I just want you to be safe, okay? I wasn’t kidding when I said it hurts me to see you hurt.” 

“Buffy says the same thing, actually,” Cyrus interjected, “About Jonah, I mean. He wasn’t always like this. Things got rocky for him after his dad hit a tough spot financially. Jonah started working like six different jobs once he got old enough to, wearing himself thin from the effort. The only thing that seemed to distract him was his string of hookups. His relationships with other people suffered a lot because that was his outlet for getting all his anger out. Sure, it sometimes hurt me, but I know who Jonah is underneath all that. And, anyway, who am I to tell him how to live his life, know what I mean?” Cyrus tapped his fingers against the locker door idly, “I know your words come from a place of concern. If I found out you were hanging out with that Reed kid again, I’d be the same way.” Cyrus rolled his eyes just thinking about it, “Plus, there was a lot of truth to what you said. But I was wrong, too. If I had committed to hanging out with either of you, I should have committed fully. It just sucks that we can’t hang out all the time.” He quickly surveyed the area for Buffy. 

T.J.’s smile was tight, “If Driscoll shows up, I’ll just apologize to her early.” 

“That isn’t the point, T.J., and you know it.” Cyrus sighed, sagging against the lockers dramatically, “If she knew I was still talking to you, she’d flip her lid. This is risky.” 

“But there’s something kind of fun about sneaking around, isn’t there?” T.J. winked, and Cyrus rolled his eyes again. 

“Not really.” His eyes traveled to T.J.’s hoodie, something bulging in the front pocket of it. He knit his brows, “What’s that?” 

“Oh, right.” T.J. pulled out, as delicately as possible, a white napkin with something inside of it. Cyrus pursed his lips in anticipation, and T.J. opened the napkin to reveal a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin. “Sorry,” T.J. blushed, “It’s a little smushed from our hug earlier. I talked Dinah from the kitchen into giving it to me. She’s a sucker for a conversation about her kids. Who are adorable, I might add.” 

Cyrus felt his own cheeks grow hot as he flashed a grin at T.J., “You did this for me? An apology muffin? Wow.” He tilted the muffin toward T.J., “Want to go halfsies?” 

“Nah, I much prefer blueberry macadamia,” T.J. said, arms still crossed over his chest as he leaned against the locker, looking all cool and nonchalant. Cyrus made a mental note to ask T.J. to teach him how to do that later. 

Currently, he had to scoff at T.J. between bites of muffin, “There’s no such muffin!” 

“Uhm, there totally is.” T.J. let his index finger trace the outline of Cyrus’s jaw, and made the excuse that, “You had some chocolate there.” 

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, finding the courage to push forward onto his tiptoes and do the same to T.J.’s cheek. Touching any part of T.J.’s skin made Cyrus feel like he was a limp, abandoned charger in some teenager’s room that had finally been plugged back into the socket. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Yeah, you had something there, too.” 

“If I didn’t know any better,” T.J. engaged in a voice just as low, dipping his head forward to be closer to Cyrus, “I’d say you were flirting with me.” 

Cyrus’s cheeks flooded at the accusation, jumping away from T.J. like he’d been shocked as all semblance of confidence left him. “I was  _ not _ .” 

T.J. shrugged, smirk playing on his lips, “‘S okay. Means you’re learning a little something from me.” Cyrus opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of Jonah’s voice barreling through the hallway caught him completely and totally off guard. He shoved T.J. into the nearest empty room, which just so happened to be the photography darkroom. “Now you’re pulling me into a dark room? I mean, it’s a little fast, but I’m ready to go there if you are.” 

“Shut  _ up _ .” Cyrus pushed him roughly in the chest, and T.J. must not have expected because he fell into an empty tray of water behind him, and Cyrus heard it and him fall to the ground with a  _ splash _ . “Uh oh.” Cyrus rushed over quickly, feeling for T.J.’s figure on the floor. There was a dark red light illuminating them, but Cyrus still had to squint his eyes to see. He helped T.J. up, but not before his hands went to the wrong place and basically felt T.J.’s abdomen up. Cyrus was thankful for the lack of visibility as T.J. came to stand across from him, water spreading quickly across the floor. 

T.J. felt around the corners of the room for a mop, “I’m guessing this has happened before.” When he found one, he started cleaning the mess up, and Cyrus could only watch him guiltily. 

“I’m sorry, T.J. I really wasn’t trying to make that--” 

T.J.’s glare defied the laws of vision as it settled on Cyrus, “What have I said about apologizing?” 

Cyrus drew into himself. “Oh. Sorry.” 

T.J. shook his head, “You gotta be more careful, Muffin. How am I supposed to trust you out there in the real world when I can’t even trust you keep your balance? Protecting you is going to be harder than I thought.” 

Cyrus took a defiant breath in, “No one asked you to protect me.” 

“It kind of comes with the territory of caring about people,” the Kippen boy shrugged. “But I see you aren’t going to make it easy for me.”

Cyrus shrugged, “Who really wants easy these days?” 

T.J. chuckled from somewhere deep in his stomach, “Well, you should. It’s what you deserve.” Cyrus took advantage of the darkness to surprise T.J. by stretching himself to his tallest height and jumping up to wrap his arms around T.J.’s neck. “Whoa!” T.J. stumbled to the side slightly before regaining his balance, tucking his hands around Cyrus’s ankles and securing him in piggyback formation, “Was there a point to you jumping on my back?”

Cyrus thwacked T.J. on the back of his head, and he winced, “I wanted to make sure you could hear me when I asked what gave you proper jurisdiction to decide what I do and don’t deserve in life.”

“So  _ dramatic _ ,” but T.J. laughed as he paced around the room with Cyrus on his back, “And light. Seriously, do you eat only muffins for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” 

“Depends on your muffin of choice,” Cyrus humored him before catching on to his game. “Hey, wait a second, you totally dodged my question!” 

“Did I?” T.J. motioned for Cyrus to scratch his head, “I don’t remember doing that.” 

Cyrus smacked him on the back of the head again, “Tell me, Timmy Johnson Kippen,” T.J. lost his balance again laughing at that, “What you think gives you the right to tell me what I do and don’t deserve.” 

T.J. rolled his eyes while Cyrus nearly lost his focus as he took in the scent of peppermint hot chocolate on T.J., “I don’t know, Underdog, I guess it’s just a gut feeling.” Cyrus tapped T.J. on the shoulder to get him to stop, and he hopped off of his back rather gracefully, especially for Cyrus. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned the flashlight on T.J., who put both hands in front of his face, “Are you trying to blind me, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus blushed, turning the flashlight back off, “Sorry. It’s strange not being able to see you fully.” 

“Missing the sight of me already?” He could just barely see T.J. wink. 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to figure out if this is all a ploy to get me away from Jonah.” 

T.J. laughed, “Hate to break it to you, Underdog, but  _ you  _ shoved  _ me  _ in this room, not the other way around.” He checked the time on his phone briefly, “We should probably get going. Class’ll start any minute.” 

“Let’s just establish that I did not want you alone in a dark room,” Cyrus clarified emphatically. 

“And what if I say you did? Would there be a problem with that?” T.J. was so terribly cocky that Cyrus could barely stand to be around him (okay, that was a lie, but it  _ could  _ have been true). 

Cyrus replied, “Hmph. I don’t think it’s very nice to lie, T.J.” 

T.J. only chuckled wholeheartedly, “Who told you I was nice, Muffin?” 

Cyrus frowned, “If you must know, I deduced that much myself.” 

“Oh, yeah?” T.J. stepped closer to Cyrus, and Cyrus felt his weight shift back instinctively. But Cyrus didn’t think he was scared of T.J. “What’s the nicest part about me?”  _ This  _ was what scared Cyrus. He backed up so far that he ran into the mop bucket, squealing in surprise and jumping back right into T.J. Kippen’s arms, his chest pressed against Cyrus’s face. He told himself that he had only done this because he was scared, but that didn’t explain why he hadn’t left yet. There was a small pressure against Cyrus’s forehead, and he wondered briefly if T.J. had kissed him there, but he was too chicken to look. T.J. took a wary step back, releasing Cyrus from his grip slowly. “I’m just going to--” He backed into the door, and Cyrus giggled at seeing T.J. flustered. “I’ll text you, okay?” Cyrus nodded happily. He waited a few minutes for T.J. to get to class before exiting the darkroom and heading to first period. 

When he walked inside, Jonah was already talking to Amber and Iris in what looked like another episode of Amber-and-Iris-teach-Jonah-how-to-be-woke. Amber groaned at Jonah, “Andi and I don’t agree on many things, but realizing you were a mistake is certainly one of our better similarities.” She shook her head, staring at Iris like,  _ Heaven help this boy _ . 

Iris took Jonah’s hands in her own, speaking to Jonah slowly by breaking down every syllable, “Jonah, honey, the reason Andi doesn’t want to play that idiotic game that just fills up empty space on teenage boys’ bookshelves is because they hypersexualize their female video game characters. Name one video game character that looks like an  _ actual  _ girl our age.” Iris shook her head. 

Jonah made a face like he was constipated which Cyrus knew meant he was thinking. Cyrus used to think that face was adorable. He still did, sometimes, but now, when he thought about cute faces, he thought about T.J. Kippen’s stupid adorable pout. Jonah opened his mouth to speak, but when he saw Cyrus standing in the doorway, he waved him over, “Hey, Cy-Guy, there’s a seat for you over here!” 

“Hey Jonah, Amber, Iris.” He grew sheepish when he talked to Iris. He still felt guilty about leading her own when he was figuring things out in regards to his sexuality. It was made worse by the fact that he couldn’t wipe the image of Iris and Libby sucking face at the last party of the summer from his mind. 

Iris smiled at him kindly, “Hey, Cyrus. Jonah’s been looking for you all morning.” 

Cyrus turned to Jonah to confirm this as he slipped into the seat beside him. “Well, Cyrus, you’ve been kind of a flake lately. I mean, what was that yesterday? Leaving me to fight with Walker and Andi?” 

Amber rolled her eyes, “Please. You’d never fight with Walker. You two are like the same person, he just catches onto things a lot quicker than you do.” Amber pouted and gave Jonah’s face a light smack. 

Jonah grimaced, “That isn’t true. Those two together are the  _ worst _ . Worse than Iris and Libby.” 

Iris brought her hand to her chest, surprised, “Libby and I don’t fight.” 

“No,” Jonah conceded, looking like he was about to barf, “You two are much worse. Everything you say to each other makes you want to kiss. It’s totally barf-tastic.” 

Amber scrunched her nose up, “Wouldn’t that word-that’s-not-a-word actually be a compliment? Considering it’s a descendant of ‘fantastic’?” 

Jonah sighed, looking at Cyrus for help, “This is what you leave me with when you’re gone.” Jonah snapped his fingers like he just remembered something, “I just remembered! Buffy wants me to figure out if you’re avoiding her. Oh, wait, I think I wasn’t supposed to let you know she asked that.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “Wait, Buffy asked that?” 

Jonah shook his head, “Yeah, she thought maybe you weren’t comfortable with Marty or something. You’ve been super quiet at lunch and when we hang out together. She figured it was that or you’ve been hanging out with T.J. and can’t say anything to her because you’re a terrible liar and would blow your cover instantly.” Jonah paused to take a breath, “Her words, not mine.” 

Amber tilted her head at Cyrus, “Wait, you’ve been spending time with my brother?” 

Cyrus felt his face grow hot as he shook his head, “No, no. You have a brother? T.J. Kippen? Who’s that?” 

Iris visibly cringed across from him. Amber smirked, “Oh! So you’re ‘He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.’ My brother’s been coming home with this stupid grin on his face for the last two weeks over you, you know that? It’s nauseating, really. He was all, ‘He’s so cute. I just want to bake him a tray of chocolate-chocolate chip muffins’ or something like that.” Amber made a gagging noise before smiling at Cyrus, “But I’m glad it’s you. You’d be good for him. T.J. hasn’t allowed himself to open up to anyone in so long I thought he’d never get the chance. But his wall’s been crumbling these last two weeks, and that’s all thanks to you.” 

Cyrus pulled on his earlobe, which he was sure was red, “I’m not really sure what you’re talking about, Ambs.” 

Amber narrowed her eyes at Cyrus before looking between Cyrus and Jonah suspiciously, “Ew, oh my God, please tell me you haven’t been hiding the fact that you’re hanging out with my brother to spare poor J-Bear’s feelings.” 

Jonah looked at Cyrus, folding his arms over his chest, “Is that true, Cyrus?” Cyrus felt like he was suffocating in his button-up, which Jonah also noticed. “No wonder you’ve been like this. Flaking on plans, using language from the eighteenth century, wearing button-ups and sweaters. I can’t believe this, Cyrus! Buffy is going to  _ murder  _ you.” 

Cyrus felt like he might cry at any moment, “Not if she doesn’t know about it.” He thought about how this had been bound to happen eventually, how this had been inevitable, and he still insisted on hanging out with T.J. and hiding it. Maybe T.J. really  _ was  _ a bad influence? Cyrus shooed the thought away. There was no one to blame for this blowing up in his face but himself. 

Jonah’s nostrils flared beside Cyrus, “So what are you two, like best friends now?” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “Of course not. Jonah, you’re my best friend.” 

Amber actually took her hand and slapped Jonah across the face, “Would you be quiet? Everything’s not about you, Jonah Beck.” She rolled her eyes, blowing on her nails like she had messed up her manicure slapping Jonah. “If Cyrus wants to spend time with my brother, that’s his decision, not yours. Cyrus is allowed to have other friends, especially if they treat him better than you do.” 

Jonah made his thinking face again, and Cyrus prayed to God that he would agree not to tell Buffy. Finally, Jonah blew out a breath, “Fine, but I’m not happy about this. You have until this weekend to tell Buffy, or I’m telling her myself.” Then, Jonah twisted in his seat to talk to Gus about ultimate frisbee practice. 

Cyrus heaved a sigh of relief as Amber and Iris gave him the same look of sympathy. Iris squeezed his hand, “It’ll be okay, Cyrus, and we’re here if you need us.” 

Cyrus nodded, grateful to have friends as great as they were. He only wished Jonah would show the same support for him. 


	7. Bowling and Bawling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all probably just wish I would edit but they advise you not to do that until you've finished the whole book so bear with me through the typos please and thank u!!!!! <3

After the demolition Marty and Buffy gave Cyrus and Jonah in the first round, Marty decided to take Jonah so Buffy and Cyrus could bowl against them. Cyrus wasn’t much help though. He kept offering to go get more nachos and drinks, and when he headed over to pick up the fourth tray of nachos, Buffy told him she’d bowl for both of them. Cyrus wasn’t doing very well, anyway. He stared at the woman working the stand, wrinkling his nose, “Do you have any packets of salt back there? There’s never enough on the chips, and I--” He completely dropped his tray of nachos when T.J. Kippen’s voice reached him from the entrance of the bowling alley. Jonah and Buffy turned to face him, concern etched on their faces. He turned back to the white-haired woman with an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I thought I saw a bee. I’ll be right back to clean this up.” He bolted in the direction of the entrance, paling when he saw Amber, Iris, Libby, and T.J. enter the alley. T.J. was holding something out of Amber’s reach, and Amber’s cheeks were flushed as she tried to grab it. 

T.J.’s voice was mocking, a high pitch as he read from Amber’s phone, “Oh, Andi, I’m so sorry for the terrible way I’ve treated you. The truth is, I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember!” 

Amber’s nostrils flared as she punched T.J. harshly in the arm, “T.J., it does not say that! And that isn’t  _ true _ !” She jumped up to grab the cell phone, and T.J. rolled his eyes, giving in. 

“Fine. It doesn’t say that,” he clarified to their friends, “But it  _ does  _ say Amber wants Andi to meet her here today so they can talk. She’s seen the error of her ways, and she hopes Andi can find it in her to forgive--Oh. Cyrus.” T.J.’s facial expression morphed into one of confusion quickly, and he ordered his friends to stop walking. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. Are you here with Jonah?”

Cyrus gulped, “Yeah, and Buffy and Marty.” Cyrus tipped his head in the direction of the others, “Hey, everybody.” 

Libby signed and mouthed,  _ Why does Cyrus look worried? Is he okay?  _

Iris frowned at Cyrus before signing and mouthing back to Libby,  _ Cyrus and T.J. aren’t allowed to hang out. But Cyrus has been lying because he likes T.J.  _ At Cyrus’s horrified expression, Iris clarified,  _ As a friend.  _

T.J. put his hands on his hips, sighing as he considered a way to work this out, “Okay, well, no harm no foul, right? It’s not like you and I came together. We’ll just keep our distance. It isn’t that big of a coincidence that we both showed up on a Thursday night to the only bowling alley in Shadyside.” 

Amber nodded, “Exactly. Are Andi and Walker joining you four later?” 

Cyrus nodded his head, “They’re supposed to be, yeah. Why, what’s up?” 

T.J. smirked knowingly, “Amber here has a little bit of a  _ crush _ \--” 

He was unable to finish as Amber elbowed him in the ribs, “Whatever. Don’t think we don’t  _ all know  _ about your little crush on Cyrus.” Amber pursed her lips as Iris gave a single nod in affirmation. 

Cyrus felt himself smile despite his blush, looking at T.J. sheepishly as he spoke, making sure to move his mouth slowly so Libby didn’t feel left out, “Guys, T.J. and I are just friends.” 

_ So he keeps telling us,  _ Libby mouthed and signed. 

Cyrus chuckled shortly before remembering he was supposed to be going back to clean up the mess he had made. “Okay, guys, I have to go. It was nice seeing you all. Do you think you could walk back out and then re-enter? If it isn’t too much to ask? I’m really sorry about this.” 

Libby and Iris shrugged. Amber rolled her eyes. T.J. tapped his cheek, “Yeah, but it’s going to cost you.” Cyrus didn’t have time to decide whether T.J. was joking or not, so he stood on his tiptoes and gave T.J. a light kiss on the cheek before shoving him out the door. He heard T.J. say, “Amber, please tell me you got that on camera,” before he ran back in the direction of his nacho spill. 

Jonah and Marty were already cleaning it up as Buffy asked the woman behind the counter where Cyrus had gone. “Sorry, guys,” he apologized, “I had to pee really bad. Too many waters, I guess.” He sent an appreciative look to Marty and Jonah, “Thanks for cleaning up. You guys ready to get creamed?” 

Buffy shook her head, “They already were. We were just going to hang out and eat some snacks until Andi and Walker could join us.” 

Cyrus nodded, taking a seat at a table across from Jonah, who sipped from his sweet tea violently. He could be kind of a sore loser when he lost. “So, Jonah, any plans for the weekend?” 

Jonah shook his head, “Not really. We have the ultimate frisbee tournament on Saturday that you  _ will be at _ , right, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus nodded dutifully, “Of course.” 

“Docious-magocious.” Jonah bit off a nacho. “Are you still sleeping over Sunday? My dad’s going to be out on business, which we both know means he’ll be at the bar getting drunk.” Jonah sighed, “But my mom will be there. Probably making another of those silly ‘follow-me’ videos. She loves putting you in those. She says you’ve got the limbs of a reliable oak.” 

“Tell your mother I say thank you,” Cyrus laughed, “And I’ll definitely be staying over Sunday night.” 

Jonah opened his mouth to jump to the next topic, but he stopped when he heard T.J. and Amber arguing by another bowling station. He frowned, looking back at Cyrus, “Did you invite him?”

Cyrus held his hand over his heart dramatically, “Of course not!  _ We’re  _ hanging out. I would never invite him.” Cyrus felt a bit of guilt as the words left his mouth, but it wasn’t as if T.J. could hear him. 

“I’ll be sure to let T.J. know that.” But, apparently Amber could. She pursed her lips, eyes filled with disappointment as she waved at Jonah. “I was coming to say hi to Jonah. I haven’t seen you both in so long,” she clenched her teeth at Cyrus. “I see now it would’ve been better not to speak at all.” 

Jonah furrowed his brows, confused, “We saw you at school yesterday.” 

Amber folded her arms across her chest, “Cyrus knows what I’m talking about.” 

Cyrus felt his face fall as he looked between Amber and a laughing T.J. who was pulling Iris toward him by the waist playfully in an attempt to make her and Libby lose. He wanted a piece of that. He looked back at Jonah, “Jonah, there’s something you should know.” 

Before he could finish, however, Andi and Walker’s bickering interrupted him. “Cyrus, take this scoundrel away from me. I can’t believe you side with  _ Odysseus _ . He was such a womanizer!” Andi shoved Walker in the chest. 

Amber abandoned her conversation with Cyrus to look over at Andi, “Uhm, totally agree. Dude was like, ‘I’d love to be faithful to my wife’ as he slept with everything with a vagina.” 

Andi laughed at that, sliding into the seat next to Amber like they were best friends, “Exactly. Finally, someone else to side with me against Walker and Jonah. Cyrus tries his darndest, but he has such trouble saying no to Jonah.” 

Jonah shrugged, “I’m telling you it’s the dimples.” 

Andi rolled her eyes. Walker stood off to the side awkwardly, and Cyrus offered up his seat. “I’ll go say hi to Iris. Walker, keep Jonah busy?” 

“Gladly.” Cyrus ignored the hint of flirtation in Walker’s voice and stepped in the direction of T.J.’s game. Iris was still bent over in laughter as Libby stuck her tongue out and flipped T.J. off. Apparently, the ladies had just scored. Cyrus cast a glance back at Buffy, who was laughing at something Marty had said, before walking right up to Iris. 

Iris paused, lowering her voice, “Cyrus, what are you doing over here?” Cyrus bit his lip nervously, and Iris glanced between Cyrus and T.J., who was now eyeing Cyrus curiously. She gave an understanding nod, stepping closer to T.J. but with her back still turned to him so that it looked like Cyrus was only talking to her. 

T.J. spoke quietly over Iris’s shoulder, “Cyrus, we had a whole plan. You’re going to get me in trouble with Buffy before I’ve even had the chance to apologize to her.” 

“I know, but I just wanted to tell you something.” T.J. nodded his head, though Cyrus could only see the back of it, and Cyrus went on, “You know how before I had trouble seeing you without seeing your past?” T.J. nodded again. In all of this, Iris hadn’t moved. Cyrus wondered if she was even breathing. Iris had always known Cyrus best, though, and she blew out a long sigh to prove she was okay. Cyrus continued, “I wanted to tell you that that was unfair. And also, I don’t have trouble separating the two anymore. You don’t scare me, T.J. Honestly, I’m not sure you ever have.” 

From where he stood, he heard T.J. suck in a sharp breath. “Cyrus.” 

Cyrus felt his heart pound in his chest, “Yes?” 

T.J.’s foot tapped against the ground anxiously, “I’m fighting really hard not to turn around and k--” Iris kicked him in his calf. “Ow,” he winced, “I’m fighting really hard not to turn around and pick you up and twirl you in front of everyone because that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” 

Cyrus was a little ticked at Iris for not letting him hear the rest of what T.J. had initially wanted to say. But he was more grateful than anything else. He looked back at Buffy and Marty, wishing things could somehow be different. He sighed heavily, “I’d really like for you to do that.” 

“Cyrus, you just say the word, and I’ll--” 

“But we can’t,” Cyrus finished over him, and he saw both Iris and T.J.’s shoulders sag, “Give it until after the game tomorrow. I’m sure Buffy will forgive you. Especially with the special addition Andi gave us.” 

“Thank God for Andi Mack,” T.J. marveled. Cyrus thought the conversation was over, but T.J. spoke again, “Uhm, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus heard the excitement in his own voice as he asked, “Yeah?”

T.J. straightened up a bit, “Do you realize that you kissed me on the cheek earlier?” 

Iris kicked T.J. in the leg, and Cyrus all but fell against the girl. “T.J.!” He looked around to make sure no one was watching before smacking T.J. in the back of his head. T.J. laughed as he massaged the back of his head. “I was in a rush and under the influence of some very hurriedly presented alternatives.” He felt like smacking the boy in the head again, but he didn’t. He just shook his head though T.J. couldn’t see it. “Don’t count on it to happen again.” 

T.J. made sure no one was looking before doing a complete three-sixty just to show Cyrus his pout. “But now that I know you’re willing to pay, how can I make my price any lower? Civics has taught me that those aren’t the rules of supply and demand.” 

“Aha! You’ve been studying the study guides I sent you, too!” Iris raised a knowing brow at Cyrus but didn’t ask. “I knew it. I totally knew it!” Before considering his words, Cyrus let slip, “I’ve got you  _ totally whipped _ .” 

T.J. was so shocked that he lost his balance standing up. He regained it quickly and nudged Iris in the foot, “You aren’t going to kick  _ him _ ?” 

Iris shrugged, “Look at him. How am I supposed to kick that?” 

Cyrus beamed, and T.J. made a grouchy noise, “Whatever. You don’t have me  _ whipped _ , Goodman. After all, it’s  _ you  _ who’s been pulling me into dark rooms, kissing me on the cheek, and uncuffing me from the bed.” 

Iris’s cheeks flamed as she kicked Cyrus in the shin, “Cyrus!” 

“Ouch!” T.J. snorted, and Cyrus rolled his eyes, “You said that stuff on purpose without  _ any  _ context.” He looked pointedly at Iris, who slapped T.J. on the neck and gave Cyrus an apologetic frown. “Just keep your big mouth shut, Kippen, or you’ll never feel mine again.” When he realized how that sounded, Cyrus cringed, and T.J. couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. He bent over laughing, drawing the attention of Cyrus’s friends. 

Buffy called across the room, “Are you picking on Cyrus, Kippen?” 

Iris yelled back, “I was just talking to Cyrus! Not sure what T.J.’s laughing at.” Her eyes shot daggers at T.J.’s back. “Cyrus, why don’t you go talk to your friends? Amber, want to quit flirting and finish our game out?” So, Amber and Cyrus traded places, an understanding gaze passing between them, and Cyrus found himself talking to Buffy and Jonah again. 

“Cyrus, have you been hanging out with T.J. behind my back?” All eyes turned to Cyrus at Buffy’s question. Jonah’s flared with anger. Andi’s and Walker’s filled with sympathy. Marty looked either confused or indifferent, most likely the latter. Buffy looked like Buffy, like she wanted an honest answer before she chose to rage at Cyrus. 

Cyrus considered his options a little like the pro/con list system T.J. liked to use. He could of course lie and keep himself in the clear as well as leaving the path clear for Buffy to forgive T.J. But if Buffy ever found out, she would be so hurt it might take her months to forgive Cyrus. If he told the truth now, he neither Buffy or T.J. would get hurt as much as they would with the former. He blew out a long sigh and answered her, “Yes.” 

The slushy in Buffy’s hand slipped and exploded on the ground below her. “What did you just say?” She was giving him the chance to take it all back, to say it was a mistake, to carry on like what he had said had never happened. 

And Cyrus declined it. He bit his lip, “Buffy, I know you hate T.J. and everything, and what he did wasn’t the nicest, but he’s been planning an apology to you for weeks! Years, really!” 

She shook her head, “Unbelievable.” She looked at the rest of their friend group, “Can you guys believe this?” They sipped their drinks slowly. Now, Buffy was  _ really  _ mad. She slammed the table in front of them, “All of you knew?” 

Jonah was the first to speak, “I told Cyrus I would give him until this weekend to tell you or I’d tell you myself.” 

Buffy looked at the rest of her friends frustratedly, “So, what, I’m the big bad wolf in this situation? I’m the bad guy for wanting to protect  _ my best friend _ \--” She spat this part at Jonah-- “From toxic T.J. Kippen. Is that it? And all of you are the little angels letting Cyrus decide things for himself, right? Even when he decides to hurt me?” When no one answered, she looked at Marty, “Did you know anything about this?” 

He shook his head, “No, honest, babe.” 

She snapped the straw in her hand in half, “Fine. The rest of you have made your decision. Cyrus, you chose T.J. And the rest of you chose Cyrus.” She scoffed, “After everything--” Cyrus could see the tears in Buffy’s eyes, but he thought the sound of his voice would only make it worse. 

Still, he tried, “Buffy, I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for hurting me?” she asked, “Or sorry you got caught?” Cyrus thought he felt his heart break. “Just stay away from me, Cyrus. You’re a liar and a  _ bad friend _ .” This last part really got Cyrus, and he felt tears spilling over his cheeks before he could stop them. Buffy took Marty’s hand in her own and glared at everyone in the bowling alley, even people they didn’t know, as they left. 

T.J. was right at Cyrus’s side as he caught the tears before they could fall past Cyrus’s face. “Hey, Underdog, it’s okay. Just let her cool off, and maybe we could--” 

But Cyrus didn’t feel like giving Buffy space. In fact, Cyrus was so sick of dragging himself into drama with these same nine people thought he thought he could go the rest of his life without speaking to a single one of them again. That included T.J. Cyrus swatted T.J.’s hands away with force rather than playfully, wiping his own tears away with his sleeve. “I don’t feel like doing anything right now, actually, and especially with  _ you _ .” Cyrus hated the venom he spoke with, but he was speaking from a place of hurt. Would T.J. understand that? 

T.J. shut down quickly, hanging his head as Amber pulled him away. “I’m sorry I’m a screw-up, Cyrus. Text me if you need me.” 

That made Cyrus cry more, and he walked away with only one thing left to say: “This is all your fault.” He hoped T.J. knew he meant that for himself rather than T.J., but he knew he probably didn’t. 


	8. More Dark Closets and an Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhm so SoRrY I can't nOt type with typos ;p ... also, this scene has like a LoT of fluff so hang on tight and leave a kudos or comment if you enjoy the ride! tysm! ;p

Cyrus wasn’t really in the mood to do much of anything now that Buffy was mad at him. Everyone kept telling him that it would pass and that Buffy would cool off, but they didn’t know what it was like living with anxiety, did they? It was so hard to see past the big thing happening right in front of you that sometimes it hurt enough to make you cry. Cyrus spent most of the night crying. He went through a lot of emotions, actually. There were times when he was angry at the whole world or felt the whole world was angry at him. There were others when he was just mad at T.J. There were times when he was mad at himself for being mad at T.J. He was so stuck in his own head that even Jonah noticed, canceling their plans for the evening and the weekend in advance. 

Now, as he lay cooped up in the bed, he wondered whether or not he should go support Buffy at her game or if that would just make a bigger mess of things. He thought about asking Jonah, but Jonah was terrible at giving advice. He considered Andi, but he still felt so guilty for dragging her and everyone else into this. Cyrus sighed as he played with his Rubik’s cube on his bed. “Well, Baby Tater,” he petted his dog boredly, “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight.” He was about to go in search of his magic 8 ball to give him the answers he needed, but before he could delve properly into his search, there was a knock on his window. He looked back at Baby Tater cautiously, “If I’m not back in five, tell my parents I was kidnapped.” Baby Tater barked his compliance, and Cyrus walked to the window warily. When T.J. was revealed to be on the other side of the window, Cyrus felt his face light up momentarily before he remembered he was either mad at T.J. irrationally or actually needed to be. He couldn’t remember which. Which probably indicated the former. Still, he restrained himself from going gaga over the boy, “T.J., what are you doing here?” 

T.J. looked a little out of breath and cold, honestly, and Cyrus let him in reluctantly. “Thanks.” T.J. stuffed something in Cyrus’s chest, and when Cyrus unraveled it, he noticed it was T.J.’s varsity jacket. 

Cyrus felt his jaw go slack. How long was he supposed to go without being nice to T.J.? Especially when he was so good at apologies? He managed to restrain himself, however, as he crossed his arms and pursed his lips at T.J., “What’s this for?” 

T.J. scowled, “For you to hold while I get on one knee.” Cyrus raised both brows before catching onto the fact that T.J. was being sarcastic, “I’m joking, Cyrus. I want you to wear it for tonight’s game. If you’re afraid of what Buffy has to say, maybe you could just keep it. For when you’re not afraid of our friendship being public, I mean.” 

Cyrus felt his resolve wavering, “Do you give your varsity jackets to all of your friends?”

T.J. shook his head, “That’s the only one I have.” 

Cyrus nodded, averting his eyes from T.J.’s own green ones. He knew he couldn’t stay strong if he looked at those. “Okay. Too bad I’m not going to the game tonight.” 

T.J. perched himself on the foot of Cyrus’s bed, and Cyrus looked out the window to keep his mind from going places his mind probably shouldn’t’ve even considered going. “What do you mean? What about our apology plan?” 

“I think Buffy’s too mad right now for an apology. Even the best apology in the world,” Cyrus blew out a breath. 

T.J. picked at the fabric of his jeans nervously, “I really wish you’d reconsider. I think communication is the most effective method in these situations. Want to know who taught me that?” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “Whatever you’re doing, I just want you to know I see through it.” 

T.J. laughed, standing up and coming to hover behind Cyrus, resting one hand on his shoulder as he whispered in his ear, “What gave you the idea that I was a player, Goodman? You never trust my motives.” 

He dragged his finger up and down the skin of Cyrus’s arm, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Cyrus wriggled out of his grasp, “That! That right there makes me think you’re a player! You can’t be so good at that without practice!” Cyrus hated the heat in his cheeks. 

T.J. frowned, “Cyrus, I don’t rehearse these things, you know. You bring this out of me.” 

Cyrus pursed his lips again, moving them to the side as he studied T.J., “I don’t get it. How do  _ I  _ make you want to flirt? I’m just… Cyrus.” 

“If I could bottle up some self-esteem and give it to you, trust me, you wouldn’t be saying any of those things.” T.J. ran a hand through his hair, and Cyrus realized it looked limper than usual, worn down like he had run his fingers through it a lot more than once today. “It kills me to hear you talk about yourself that way.  _ Why _ , Cyrus? Why do you think?” 

Cyrus gulped, “I think you should go.” 

T.J. shook his head, “No. I’m sorry, Cyrus, but I refuse to let you sit in your bedroom the rest of the night all mopey and alone and convince yourself everything is your fault when it isn’t.” At Cyrus’s gasp of indignation, he kept going, “I should have apologized to Buffy way sooner than this. I should have marched up to her and told her that I care about you. I should have told  _ you  _ that. And I should have relished every sweet moment I got with you, Cyrus, rather than griping about having to stay private or letting my jealousy get in the way of our friendship.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “You never complained about us having to be secret. And what do you mean, jealousy?” 

“How can you call  _ me  _ oblivious? Do you even hear yourself right now, Cyrus?” T.J. shook his head in disbelief. “How can you be so good at chess and science and so naive socially?” 

Cyrus stepped closer to the boy, anger radiating off of him in waves, “Don’t say those things about me. You’re no angel, yourself.” 

“Don’t I know it.” T.J. grabbed Cyrus’s chin, tilting it up so Cyrus could look him in the eyes. Cyrus turned his head the other way. “Cyrus, will you give me a chance to make things right with Buffy? I’m telling you, I’m sorry for the way I treated her then and even the way I’ve treated her now. I want to fix things. But I can’t do it without your help. I’m afraid…” Cyrus risked a glance his way, “I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.” 

Cyrus looked down at his feet, swatting T.J.’s arm away from his chin. He felt his cheeks turning to flames as he spoke in the smallest voice he could conjure, “It’s going to cost you.” 

T.J.’s feet clouded Cyrus’s field of vision, and though the taller man held Cyrus’s hands in his own, Cyrus was too embarrassed to look up. It was just a quick peck, the feeling of T.J.’s lips against Cyrus’s cheek, and Cyrus realized he was conflicted. Half of him was content, ready to explode with excitement because T.J. Kippen had just kissed him on the cheek. But another half of Cyrus that not even Jonah had awakened inside of him wanted  _ more _ . His entire body blushed, he was sure of it, and he pushed T.J. away before running into his closet and hiding--literally and figuratively. He had been out of the closet long enough to see the outside world was a little brighter and a lot less lonely. But he still craved the safety and security of it in moments like these. There was a soft knock on the closet door, and Cyrus shrunk further into the carpet. “Cy?” 

_ Don’t call me that!  _ Cyrus wanted to say. But the part of him that wasn’t scared didn’t want that at all. It wanted the opposite, in fact. His voice was wobbly as he asked, “Yes?” 

T.J.’s feet shuffled in front of the door awkwardly, “Can I come in?” 

_ No _ . Cyrus found it strangely easier to be confident in this safest of safe havens. He gulped before answering, “Yes.” Cyrus scooted to the left to make room for T.J., who shut the door behind him. 

He could hear the sound of T.J.’s breaths beside him, “I’m sorry, Cyrus.” 

“I asked you to do it,” Cyrus whispered. Everything felt too loud with T.J. right next to him. 

T.J. took the hint and lowered his own voice, “I never mean to scare you away. And I did that again. I keep doing it.” 

“T.J.,” Cyrus rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder, and T.J. wrapped his arm around Cyrus’s waist, pulling him against his side so hard Cyrus wondered if and somewhat hoped he’d leave an imprint. “I’m not scared of you.” 

“Then why did you run?” T.J.’s voice was so vulnerable in this moment that Cyrus knew he had to be strong for both of them. Cyrus sometimes forgot it was in this area that T.J. was more insecure, more open to breaking than Cyrus. 

“I’m scared of the stuff inside my head,” Cyrus confessed, “And my chest.” He pointed to his heart though T.J. couldn’t see it. They were in another dark closet, after all. “And basically everywhere else.” Cyrus shrugged against T.J. 

“You know I’d respect your feelings no matter what they were,” T.J. promised. “I  _ will _ . No matter what they  _ are _ ,” he corrected himself to present tense. 

Cyrus nodded, “I do know that. But it’s still scary, T.J. I’m sorry I’m a scaredy-cat.” 

T.J. chortled at that, “You realize you scare the hell out of me, right?” 

Cyrus tilted his head, but it was no use. He couldn’t see enough to check T.J. for sincerity. He’d simply have to trust him. “Why?” 

“Have you seen what I become around you,” T.J. mocked himself, “I’m a blubbering, stuttering mess of flirtatious ramblings and things that don’t make sense, an absolute puddle of emotions. You’re the only person without the last name Kippen with whom I don’t put my guard up around. Haven’t you figured that out yet? You were right when you said I was whipped. All you have to do is smile and turn those chocolate brown eyes on me, and I’m a goner.” He shook his head. 

Cyrus was thankful T.J. couldn’t see him blush, “Oh.” 

T.J. nodded, “Yeah.” 

Cyrus searched for T.J.’s hand in the darkness, pulling it into his own and holding it in T.J.’s lap. He used his free hand to pull his knees into his chest, “T.J.?” 

T.J. squeezed his hand, “Yeah, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus let his head hang forward as his voice shook, “Do you think you could kiss my cheek again?” T.J. did, and Cyrus decided to listen to the part of him that was content with just this. They sat like that until T.J.’s phone sounded what felt like hours later, and he jumped away from Cyrus quickly, rushing out of the closet in panic. Cyrus wrinkled his nose, confused. “Did something happen?” 

T.J. stuffed his cell phone in his back pocket and threw his jacket again at Cyrus. “I’m late for warm-ups for the game tonight. Think you’ll be able to make it? I’m telling you, I have something really awesome planned.” 

Cyrus bit his lip coyly, “Remember, I already said I’d go?” 

“Oh, right.” T.J. smiled, staring at Cyrus so hard he fell clumsily into the wall on his left. “I knew that was there.” He shot a finger gun at Cyrus as Cyrus giggled. “Well, let’s get going, then. I’ll need you to keep my surprise distracted.” 

“What do you mean by that?” He threw T.J. his keys from where they had fallen on his bed. He pulled T.J.’s jacket around him as the exited the house. 

“You’ll see,” T.J. promised as he opened the passenger side door of his Jeep and helped Cyrus up into it. 

Cyrus blushed, buckling up and pulling T.J.’s jacket tighter around himself, “Big car.”  _ Big car? Big car? Why couldn’t he just say,  _ nice car,  _ like a normal human being?  _

T.J. chuckled, “Yeah, it’s my dad’s. But thanks.” Cyrus vowed to stay silent until they got to the school because he made less of a fool of himself that way. But he got bored about a minute and a half into his promise, though, and started fiddling with the dials on T.J.’s radio. T.J. swatted his hand away, “Stop that.” 

“What, you don’t like show tunes?” Cyrus pulled an aux cord from the Ziploc baggie in his pocket (he was always prepared for Jonah), and plugged it into his cell phone and the car. “It’s Quiet Uptown” blasted from the speakers, and T.J. covered his ear with one hand like it was bleeding. Cyrus rolled his eyes, “You’re exaggerating. Though this is one of the saddest songs on the soundtrack. What about…” His eyes traveled the playlist before landing on “Goodbye, Love” from the  _ RENT _ soundtrack. He tilted his head toward T.J., “Do you have a predisposition to the original Broadway, 2005 movie, or live remake soundtracks?” T.J. shook his head, keeping his mouth shut to most likely keep from complaining about the music choice. “Great.” Cyrus played the original Broadway soundtrack, gesturing toward T.J. as he sang Mimi’s part, “‘Just came to say goodbye, love, goodbyeeee loooove. Just came to say, goodbye love, hello, disease.” Cyrus made a somber expression, and T.J. spared him half a glance, lips turning down into a frown. “What, no applause?” Cyrus huffed, seriously offended as T.J. made another turn. 

“I don’t like how convincing you are in that role,” T.J. finally admitted after a few beats of silence, “It makes me feel like you’re really saying goodbye to me, being snatched from my fingers by some horrible disease.” T.J. shook his head, “Consider me not a fan.” 

Cyrus hummed softly, “So you know the backstory of the musical, then?” 

T.J. nodded distastefully, “Yeah, Amber’s obsessed with it. She went through this whole  _ Wicked _ thing in middle school when she and Andi were constantly at it. She kept calling Andi Linda.” T.J. shook his head, “Whatever. I never understood it. Then she started playing this and  _ Dear Evan Hansen _ ,  _ In The Heights _ , and  _ Hamilton _ .” He shrugged, “I kind of started listening in. A lot of musicals are expressions of people’s pain, though, like all art is.” He glanced at Cyrus before looking back at the road, “Whatever. Forget I said anything.”

“You’re such a  _ guy _ ,” Cyrus groaned, “Getting all embarrassed because you like some of the greatest musicals of all time, in my personal opinion.” He leaned over the console to place a light kiss on T.J.’s cheek, and T.J. veered a little too far to the right on the road. 

Cyrus giggled as pink flooded T.J.’s cheeks, “Could you  _ not  _ do that while I’m driving?” 

Cyrus pulled his knees into his chest, thankful T.J. didn’t get weird about Cyrus having his feet in the seat. He was wearing socks, if that helped his case. “When would you rather I did it, then?” 

T.J. seemed to seriously consider it, “Hm. Maybe when I bring you a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin. Or when I help you conquer a fear. Or just when you’re happy to see me.” 

Cyrus sighed, “T.J., if we go by that, I’ll never  _ stop  _ kissing your cheek.” 

A shit-eating grin made its way on T.J.’s face, “Yeah, I’m okay with that, too.” 

Cyrus waited until they were at a red light to slap him in the neck. “What’s this plan you have to get Buffy’s forgiveness? And is it happening before or after the game? Because I’m not sure I can handle her stink-eye throughout the whole game when she sees me wearing your jacket.” 

“You’ll still be cheering for her though, right?” Cyrus nodded. “Then, it shouldn’t be a problem. This is the only game all year in which we’ll have to face each other. Just wear my jacket but root for her.” 

“Oh,” Cyrus shrugged, “I guess that’ll work.” 

“Of course it will.” T.J. parked the Jeep outside the gym, turning the car off and looking over at Cyrus. He looked him up and down until Cyrus’s cheeks were so red he had to ask him to stop doing that. “Sorry. I just… You look really good in my jacket.” 

“Oh.” Was it possible for Cyrus to blush harder? He bit his lip, “Should we get inside or?”

T.J. nodded, grabbing his duffel from the bag and swinging it over his shoulder before coming around Cyrus’s side of the car to open the door for him. In the meantime, Cyrus collected his aux and cell phone. If the night went the way he hoped it would, he’d be riding home with Buffy after the game. T.J.’s hand brushed Cyrus’s as they walked into the gym, but neither of them made any moves to grab the other’s. That’s when Cyrus remembered it was his fault. He had wanted to keep their friendship private, after all. Cyrus knocked his arm against T.J.’s roughly. T.J. looked back at Cyrus, confused, “Something wrong, Underdog?” 

Cyrus pulled on his earlobe. “Girls who are just friends hold hands all the time, right?” He hoped he didn’t sound too desperate at the moment. 

T.J. smirked, sliding Cyrus’s hand into his own. They were standing outside the gym door, and T.J. leaned in to whisper into Cyrus’s ear, “But we’re not just friends  _ or  _ girls.” When he pulled back, T.J. winked, letting Cyrus’s hand go as he ran off into the gym. 

Cyrus felt that T.J. had, in a more innocent sense of the phrase, left Cyrus blue-balled. He huffed out a sigh as he called through the gym door behind T.J., “Wait, Kippen, what did you mean about me needing to keep your surprise distracted?!” When no answer came and the door fell shut, he rested angrily against the wall of the building, mostly upset because T.J. had left him hanging with more questions than he had started with.  _ Were  _ they more than friends? There was a light tug on the sleeve of T.J.’s jacket, and Cyrus looked over at his new conversation partner in surprise. Because Buffy Driscoll’s mother, in her full military uniform, was standing a few feet away from Cyrus Goodman. “Mrs. Driscoll?!” 

“Hey, Cyrus,” she greeted with a laugh, “I think I might know a thing or two about what that boy may have meant. Walk with me, will you?” 


	9. Apology Muffins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sO sOrRy for the tYpOs!!!!!

Cyrus didn’t find it too hard to keep Mrs. Driscoll distracted, and, though he hated to admit it, he was glad not to be subjected to Buffy's hateful glares and the sadness they emitted when she saw him wearing T.J.’s jacket. 

That was another thing. Cyrus still hadn’t recovered from the fact that he was supposedly more than just friends with T.J. Kippen. When did that happen? He still wasn’t sure it had, but he also wasn’t sure he was ready to have that conversation with T.J. just yet. He was considering all this as he and Mrs. Driscoll listened to the game through the gym doors with Andi’s promise she would keep Buffy in the bounds of the school gym until the second half. Apparently, with Marty’s coercion, Buffy had already forgiven everyone but him. Cyrus still paced in front of the door, and he didn’t notice until just before half-time that Mrs. Driscoll was laughing at him. “Oh, sorry, Mrs. Driscoll. I know you were telling me about Buffy as a kid. I guess I just got lost in my own head. I can be pretty self-obsessed,” he apologized. 

Mrs. Driscoll chuckled happily, “Cyrus, dear, I don’t think anyone who knows you would accuse you of that.” Cyrus beamed at that, “Is this about the boy who worked so hard to set this up for my brave little girl?” Mrs. Driscoll winked, “He seems like a fine young man.” 

Cyrus blushed, “Oh, Mrs. Driscoll, I think you’re mistaken.” He shook his head, “T.J. and I are just friends.” 

“Are you okay with that?” She frowned slightly, “I’ve seen my Buffy be so guarded with boys. I can’t say I provided her much security in her life, having to move about from one place to the next as I have. I sincerely regret that. But you… You seem sad, Cyrus. You have a strong support system, so you aren’t used to being guarded, but something happened in your past… perhaps a rejection from Buffy’s other friend, the one she bought a set of spoons for Christmas so he could look at himself in them?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Though I hate to overstep.” 

Cyrus took a long exhale, “Wow. It took eight years of college for all four of my parents to do that.” He laughed, “Guess serving the way you do teaches you a lot of life lessons.” 

She nodded, “It does.” She took her hat off, revealing braided hair the same texture as Buffy’s. Cyrus made a mental note to invite her to the GHC later. “I see people in pain so much… you start to recognize the different types. Missing home, feeling guilt, loneliness. I’m sensing a lot of fear from you, Cyrus. And it seems to be unwarranted.” 

Cyrus tried laughing it off, but it came out resembling little more than a breath, “Fear is my middle name, Mrs. Driscoll.” 

She stepped closer to Cyrus, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into her chest. For some reason, Cyrus felt the urge to cry in her embrace. “But you can’t live your whole life using it as your compass. We both know that, Cyrus. Give your heart to someone you trust with it, but know you have the strength to come back if that trust is broken.” 

Cyrus opened his mouth to thank her and maybe continue this discussion, but the buzzer sounded for half-time, and Andi rushed out of the gym frantically, “Cyrus, it’s time! They’re cutting the lights now, and the cheerleaders are pulling Buffy to the middle of the gym. Mrs. Driscoll, you’re up!” 

Buffy’s mother smiled brightly as Cyrus helped her enter the gym, hearing Walker’s voice over the intercom and finding him where the commentators usually sat. He must be controlling the lights, too. He sent him a thumbs-up, and he couldn’t say for sure, but he thought Walker winked back. Sure enough, Buffy was laughing with a puzzled face pulled as the cheerleaders circled her, asking her all sorts of different questions. “You know her as the Slayer, the best basketball player, the lover of baby taters, but one person knows her by the best name of them all!” Walker’s voice jumped an octave as he really got into it. Buffy still hadn’t looked in the direction of Cyrus and her mother, “She knows her so well, she even named her! Ladies and gentlemen, please give a huge round of applause for--” 

“Mom!” The gym erupted in applause as Buffy ran toward her mother, their embrace sweet and long. Cyrus felt himself tearing up beside her. Buffy looked from her mother to Cyrus quickly, her eyes filled with affection before she remembered she was mad at Cyrus. But, her features softened again as she asked, “You? How?” 

Cyrus shook his head, pointing to where Walker had been moments before. “Not me, _him_.” 

Walker was no longer there. Instead, as the spotlight gave up and the lights in the gym were restored to their natural state, T.J. Kippen revealed himself behind the microphone. Marty and Jonah were in their place at the other end of the gym, and Cyrus shot them a thumbs-up that Buffy definitely saw. She gave Marty a confused look, and he shrugged while Jonah made a motion of zipping his lips. Then, T.J. started talking, “Buffy Driscoll, in my few years knowing you, I’ve discovered you’re one of the stubbornest, most kind-hearted, most _competitive_ ,” the gym broke out in laughter at that, “Players I’ve met in my life. But I’ve also realized you’re more than just a player. You’re a friend, a daughter, and a human being. A smart, funny, incredibly capable human being with real human emotions, and I was intimidated by you and hurt those feelings. Buffy, I know you think I’m toxic T.J. Kippen, and I agree that I am, but coming across people like you and Cyrus has made me rethink who I am and who I want to be.” Cyrus’s heart warmed at that. This guy really _was_ the best at apologies. “I’m sorry I hung out with Cyrus behind your back. Can you blame me for wanting some of his sunlight to shine on me, too?” Buffy looked at Cyrus with a small grin that increasingly grew. “Nonetheless, I went about it all the wrong way. My first obligation should have been to you. Buffy, you’re not only the coolest _girl_ I’ve ever met in my life, you’re the coolest person in general. You teach other people to see things in terms of what’s possible rather than what society _says_ is possible.” T.J. smiled, “And that is why, Buffy Driscoll, I come to you with a papier-mâché olive branch that your friends Andi Mack and Walker Brodsky made for me.” On cue, Jonah and Marty walked toward Buffy and presented her with the olive branch as Buffy put her hands over her mouth like she was about to cry. “And your _mom_ ” The gym was a mixture of light-hearted laughter and “aww”s. “And I ask for your forgiveness and your blessing to hang out with your friend Cyrus Goodman and make him a friend of my own if he isn’t already.” He paused his speech to hit a button on the soundboard that made a noise of suspense. “What do you say, Driscoll? Do you accept my apology?” 

The gym waited in anticipation of Buffy’s answer. Andi and Amber held one another’s hands anxiously in the bleachers. Walker and Jonah exchanged hopeful glances between one another. Marty gave Buffy a knowing look. Somewhere in the distance, Iris and Libby were signing a prayer for Buffy to forgive T.J. Kippen. And T.J. Kippen was making his way from the booth to the ground, where we opened his arms for Buffy to come in for a hug. 

And Buffy Driscoll sighed, “I forgive you, Kippen, but there is no way in--” Her mother gave her shoulder a light punch, and Buffy winced and corrected her word choice-- “Heck I’m hugging you after the way you just played.” Sure enough, T.J. Kippen was drenched in sweat. There was a collective sigh of relief and internal laughter from the belly of the gym, and a lot of people began chanting for T.J. and Buffy to kiss. 

“Ugh, heteros,” T.J. groaned, to which the inner circle laughed. Andi, Libby, Iris, Amber, Jonah, Marty, Cyrus, and Walker all crowded around T.J., Buffy, and her mother. To set the record straight, Buffy kissed Marty on the lips, and the crowd broke out in whistles. 

“Littest charity event _ever_ ,” Jonah commented as Walker laughed. 

“I attest to that.” Cyrus’s voice was quiet. He still wasn’t exactly sure where he and Buffy stood. 

Buffy took a step toward him as everyone else took a few steps back, “Cyrus.” She wrapped him in a hug like they had been fighting for a year rather than a day. “I’m so sorry I got mad. I’m so sorry I was so blinded by wanting to protect you that I got selfish and asked you to make an unfair decision like that. You can be friends with whoever you want to.” 

“I want to be friends with _you_ ,” Cyrus clarified as he hugged her back, “Let’s never fight again.” 

She linked her pinky through his even as she stated, “No promises,” to which they both laughed. She jerked her head in the direction of her mother, “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll go back home with my mom after the game and catch up with her. But I want to go to the Spoon with you tomorrow, so cancel whatever other plans you had.” She glanced back at T.J. with pursed lips and a raised brow, “That includes the boys’ basketball captain.” 

Cyrus felt his cheeks grow pink as he threw out a scandalous, “Buffy!” 

She shrugged, “Just saying, the only other person I could see doing something that dramatic is Marty for me.” Her grin brightened as she nudged Cyrus in the shoulder, “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Really?” He raised his head. 

“Of course,” Buffy nodded, “You’re my best friend.” 

“You’re my best friend too.” He wrapped her in another hug. She rushed off to thank the others before half-time ended, and T.J. shuffled his feet awkwardly a few feet away from Cyrus. Cyrus rolled his eyes, “T.J., you can come hug me now.” 

“You mean you’d hug me while I’m all sweaty like this?” He smirked as he stepped toward Cyrus, who stumbled away from him and fell onto his butt in the middle of the gym floor. He heard Amber and Andi laugh from somewhere a few feet away, and blood rushed to his cheeks as T.J. offered him a hand up. “Didn’t mean to scare you, Goodman.” 

“No ‘Muffin’ or ‘Underdog’?” Cyrus ducked his head, “Guess you’ve changed your mind from before, then.” 

T.J. laughed heartily, “Cyrus, seeing you wear my jacket makes me want to do way more than kiss you on the cheek.” He said this in a low voice in case anyone was listening for, Cyrus hoped, Cyrus’s sake. 

Cyrus thought it was getting a little too warm for his liking as he realized T.J. hadn’t let go of his hand yet. “It does?” 

T.J. started to nod but changed his mind halfway through it, smiling softly at Cyrus instead, “Hm. I’ll tell you when I’m certain you feel the same way.” Then, he tugged either side of Cyrus’s--T.J.’s, really--jacket up and placed a gentle kiss on Cyrus’s cheek behind the cover. Cyrus felt nerves alight from his head to his toes. He wanted to tell T.J. he felt the same, but he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt yet. He spent so much time trying to run away from his feelings because he was afraid of them. T.J. backed away then, smiling at Cyrus, “See you after the game, Underdog.” 

“Uh--” The rest of Cyrus’s sentence was stuck in his throat, it seemed, as he choked out a strangled, “See you then.” 

Amber and Andi flanked him on either side as they walked back into the audience. Cyrus thought that’s what you called it, anyway. Up until a few months ago, he thought Buffy’s basketball uniform was called a costume. He looked at Amber first, “What do you want?” They climbed to the highest section of bleachers, and the other five joined them shortly thereafter. 

Amber started in on him immediately, “What’s going on with you and my brother? Was that a kiss he just gave you under his jacket?” 

“Which you’re wearing, by the way,” Andi found it important to note. “Why is that?” 

Cyrus scoffed, “Guys, c’mon. Can’t two guys hold hands and share clothes? Where’s the harm in that?” 

“No harm, Cyrus,” Andi responded. 

“We just want to know if you guys are doing those things to be _friends_ or _boyfriends_ ,” Amber finished. 

Cyrus felt cornered as he beckoned, “Jonah!” 

“What’s up, Good Man?” Jonah squeezed in between Amber and Cyrus, and Walker squeezed in between Cyrus and Andi, leaving both girls huffing indignantly. 

Walker smirked, “What’s up, Bar Mitzvah Boy?” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “Thanks for saving me from them. They can be kind of--”

“Annoying?” Jonah asked. 

“Intense?” Walker offered up. 

Jonah smiled at Walker, “No, I’m thinking emotional.” 

“Or stuck up!” Walker snapped his fingers. 

Amber and Andi set their glares on the two with arms crossed over their chests. “Say another thing, Dumb and Dumber.” 

“Beavis and Butthead,” Amber supplied. 

“Thing 1 and Thing 2?” Andi asked. 

Amber shook her head, “I’m thinking Trump and Pence.” 

Andi let her fingers brush against Amber’s, “Oo, okay political roaster.” 

Walker and Jonah sighed in defeat. Cyrus thought the whole thing was kind of funny, to be honest. For the rest of the game, the entire group of them seemed to have actual civil conversations, and Cyrus realized that these nine people hadn’t only caused his life to be full of bad drama, but good drama, too. They saw him through all times, good and bad, and made him who he was. He was greatly appreciative of that. 

At the end of the game (which the girls creamed the boys in), Cyrus hovered outside T.J.’s Jeep, promising to meet the others at the Spoon before waving them goodbye. He supposed he could’ve ridden with Jonah, but Jonah seemed content with Walker these days, and even a little lighter with him. Cyrus was surprised he wasn’t jealous. Instead, he wanted to see if T.J. was okay and up to go with him. If not, he hoped they could still hang out. Maybe T.J. could spend the night. He doubted his parents would mind it. He was so busy thinking about this that he missed T.J. exiting the gym, fully showered and dressed in sweats and a white tee instead of his uniform or usual hoodie. He was thankfully still wearing a black jacket. Of course, Cyrus didn’t see all of this until T.J. whispered, “Boo!” right in Cyrus’s ear and sent his heart nearly right out of his chest. 

“Jesus, Teej, don’t do that!” He hit the taller man in the chest. 

T.J. laughed, popping half a granola bar in his mouth, “What’d you just call me?” 

Cyrus traced his thoughts back, his brows furrowing with the effort, “What do you mean? I called you T.J., didn’t I?” T.J. swallowed his next bite, throwing his wrapper in the recycling bin from an impossible distance and still making it. Cyrus hit him in the abdomen weakly, “Show-off.” 

T.J. shook his head, “No, I think you called me Teej.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’ve called you that in my head since pretty much the day that I met you.” Cyrus shrugged before realizing what he had said, burying his face in T.J.’s jacket (the one on his body, not Cyrus’s). “Pretend I didn’t say that.” 

“Cat’s out of the bag now, Muffin.” T.J. ruffled Cyrus’s hair a bit, “It’s not a big deal, is it?” 

Cyrus felt a pout form on his lips, “Well, what if I think it is?” 

T.J. shrugged, leaning tiredly against the Jeep. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Cyrus. How about I stop you by the Spoon and buy you baby taters, a chocolate milkshake, and a _deluxe_ chocolate-chocolate chip muffin?” T.J. rubbed his hands up and down Cyrus’s back as Cyrus still clung to the taller man. “Will that even out whatever this is?” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “You’re really no fun after games. You aren’t even going to invite me to your house?” Cyrus slapped himself on the forehead. He had honestly walked himself directly into that. 

“You’re full of confidence tonight, aren’t ya?” T.J. tilted his head, placing a delicate kiss to the top of Cyrus’s head. It was a pressure Cyrus had felt before. “Fine. I’ll take you to the Spoon and get you whatever you want, including your apology muffin, and then we’ll go back to my place and crash. You can even cuff me to the bedpost, if you’re really dying to make a point at me.” 

Cyrus felt his internal thermometer blow up. “You shouldn’t be this good at teasing when you’re tired. I want two apology muffins now.” 

T.J. bowed his head in compliance before opening Cyrus’s door for him, “Whatever you want, Cyrus.” 

As T.J. began driving off, Cyrus grinned, “You really are whipped for me, you know that?” 

T.J. sighed, “I know. But I’m too far gone to care much about that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think of T.J.'s apology?! Would you accept it? Lmk in the comments!! And feel free to drop a heart if you want more of the story! There's still much to come *laughs maniacally* thanks for reading!!!


	10. Shooting Your Shot and Other Lessons in Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself for being this person, but this chapter is practically fluff-less and pretty much a plot device, but it's the opener to something much better (I hope??)! Anyway, comment or kudos if you enjoy the story and let me know if you have any other plot ideas to make the story longer? I'm planning on 15-16 chapters as of now, but if I could get to 20, I wouldn't be opposed to that :). Ok now I'm done talking, read my typo-ridden story and lmk what u think! :p

Cyrus was pretty sure that T.J. was getting impatient. It wasn’t like the older boy ever showed any signs of impatience, really. It was more of a hunch than anything else. Cyrus was still getting used to his relationship with T.J. being public and, to be honest, he was more than a little sad to have to now share T.J. with the rest of the world. It became harder and harder to plan things without the rest of the group, particularly Jonah, who was so impressed with T.J.’s apology that he was suddenly the Kippen boy’s biggest fan. Walker didn’t seem to be taking too kindly to that either. All of this meant that Cyrus was being unjustly selfish, especially because even when he  _ did  _ have T.J. to himself, he was so scared of his own emotions that he refused to let himself get carried away by them. He was even bashful about letting T.J. kiss his cheek these days, and something deep inside Cyrus told him that that was scaring T.J. away. T.J. was internalizing Cyrus’s actions as rejection rather than anxiety or nerves. But it wasn’t like he could  _ talk  _ to T.J. about it. Cyrus knew the boy would go to the moon and back to try and help Cyrus, but Cyrus was tired of being the helpless boy with anxiety. He needed a way to fix this without T.J.’s help. 

“Cyrus!” Buffy snapped her fingers in front of Cyrus’s face, and he jumped on the couch, thankful for T.J.’s presence beside him to keep him calm. They were all at Andi’s house watching a scary movie. On the recliner on the left, Marty sat with Buffy on his lap. On the long couch next to them, Cyrus sat between the arm of the couch and T.J., their arms brushing harshly against one another. It was the most Cyrus would let T.J. touch him. Another thing that bothered Cyrus was how his friends teased him and T.J. unfailingly. He almost wanted to prove to them that he and T.J. were nothing more than friends. Beside T.J., Amber and Andi held hands for what they both claimed to be “the steadying powers of friendship during a movie like this.” On the floor a few feet from the couch, Iris laid on her belly with Libby on her back. And on the recliner on the  _ right _ , Jonah sat jumping at every horrifying seen while Walker sat on the arm of the couch, there to relax Jonah the way T.J. relaxed Cyrus. 

Cyrus looked at Buffy, paling as someone on the screen was brutally eaten to death, “No talking during the movie, Buff!” 

Buffy rolled her eyes, leaning closer to whisper to him. It wasn’t like the others were listening, anyway. Everyone was too invested in the movie. Cyrus squirmed against T.J.’s side, two seconds away from using T.J.’s hoodie to shield his face. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last  _ hour and a half _ .” She shook her head like she was disappointed in him, and he shrugged. “Why won’t you let T.J. put his arm around you?” 

Cyrus looked back at T.J. to make sure he was watching before answering her, “I’m telling you, Buffy, we’re just friends. And you guys would  _ never  _ let us live it down if we did that.” 

Buffy gave Cyrus a sympathetic look, “I’m just saying to look around, Cyrus. Every two people in this room is touching a little more than is actually called for.” She looked pointedly at Andi and Amber. “What do you think would make you and T.J. so different?” She didn’t say anything more, simply relaxed back against Marty as Cyrus curled himself further into the couch. 

T.J. leaned closer, making Cyrus jump when his warm breath filtered into Cyrus’s ear, “Okay, Underdog?” Cyrus yelped, knocking the popcorn bowl clean out of T.J.’s hands as the rest of the group shot daggers at him. Cyrus shrunk further into the couch sheepishly, an apologetic smile taking shape on his face. T.J. blushed, his arm pressing into Cyrus’s, “Sorry, Underdog. I forgot.” 

“It’s okay.” Cyrus sighed. He wanted so badly for T.J. to put his arm around Cyrus and press him into his side like he had since the first day they met, but a bigger part of Cyrus was afraid of what that would mean for their relationship. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. 

T.J.’s eyes grew curious as he watched Cyrus cower in fear from the movie screen. His voice was a deep rumble of a whisper that Cyrus found ridiculously attractive, “If the movie’s too scary, we can go back to my place. I’ll even make you some spill-proof popcorn.” 

Cyrus thought that sounded nice. He took the chance to rest his head on T.J.’s shoulder, “No, it’s okay. Thanks for the offer, though.” 

“Of course.” Cyrus thought he noted a bit of deflation in T.J.’s voice, but the taller man’s smile was still so blindingly bright that Cyrus wasn’t sure. Someone was stabbed to death repeatedly on the screen before them, and Cyrus let out a strangled gasp, clutching T.J.’s hoodie over his face as the other boy leaned over to give him better access. Cyrus’s teeth were chattering behind the boy’s back, and he risked a wary glance over the fabric of Teej’s hoodie. T.J.’s voice was steadying as he spoke, “Cyrus, it’s over. No more crazy ax-murderers or machete men. For now.” Cyrus nodded, but he still hid everything under his eyes behind T.J. The Kippen boy laughed, “Do you want to watch something different?” Cyrus knew his other friends were suckers for blood, guts, and gore, however, so he firmly shook his head. T.J. blew out a long sigh, and Cyrus was just about to ask him what was wrong when another graphic scene made its way onto the TV screen and Cyrus cried out in terror. His cheeks burned as he tugged so ferociously on T.J.’s hoodie that he ended up pulling the boy himself back. “Cyrus,” he laughed, “I can’t get any closer.” 

And Cyrus, because apparently lungfuls of T.J.’s wintry scent cost him brain cells, blurted out, “We definitely can.” He sucked in a sharp breath as he heard T.J. do the same, and he wanted to take it back, but he knew that he couldn’t. Could he play it off as a joke, then? No, he didn’t think so. He didn’t have the time to make a decision, though, because T.J. got up and walked determinedly toward the kitchen. Andi shot Cyrus a worried glance, and Amber and Cyrus debated with their eyes who would go after him. And as much as Cyrus thrilled at the idea of someone else handling this, he knew it was his problem to fix. He let out a long sigh and followed T.J. Kippen, feeling guilty and small as he watched the other man take down a bottle of water like it was something else. He pressed his palms into the sink and hung his head, shaking it back and forth like he was convincing himself of something. When he finally seemed to have collected himself, he turned around, head held high, and was knocked out of breath again by the sight of Cyrus in the entryway. Cyrus offered up a half-grin, “Some pep talk you gave yourself.” 

“Oh, Cyrus, I’m sorry.” T.J. raked his fingers through his hair roughly as Cyrus stepped closer to him. “I didn’t mean to leave you in there all alone when I knew you were scared.” 

Cyrus blushed, “Uhm, well, I wasn’t alone, technically. It just sort of felt like it.” He shuffled his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, and he managed to meet T.J.’s affectionate gaze with one of his own. “This is hard for you, isn’t it?” 

T.J. chuckled quietly, “That obvious, is it?” 

Cyrus shook his head, “No, it’s just… it’s hard for me, too.” 

T.J.’s brows furrowed, “Cyrus, just let me know what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.” 

Cyrus looked away, biting his lip, “That’s the thing. I think that if you don’t  _ ever  _ tell me what you want or need, too, then I’ll never find the courage to go after what  _ I  _ want or need but am too scared to admit.” 

He heard T.J. step closer, “Cyrus, I’m not going to push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.” 

“That’s what I’m getting at,” Cyrus frowned, “I’m saying that it isn’t that I don’t want to do it, it’s that I’m afraid I  _ might  _ want to.” 

T.J. scratched the back of his neck, “I’m going to be honest in saying that I don’t know what that means or what I can do about it.” 

Cyrus frowned, hating the awkwardness of the entire situation. “Just… forget I said it.” 

“Cyrus?” T.J. took another giant step forward, and Cyrus straightened rather than cowering away. 

“Yes?” Cyrus’s voice was a little wobbly, but the conviction was the same. 

T.J. frowned, “I can do a lot of things, but I can’t read your mind. If you want something… You have to take it.” 

Cyrus nodded, but he didn’t make a move to do anything. The hopefulness in T.J.’s eyes faded, and he began walking away. Cyrus told himself that it meant nothing, even as the urge to cry fell largely upon him. 

It was the same way in school. Cyrus and Jonah were talking by the lockers when T.J. passed, dribbling a basketball on one finger like the cocky player he was. Cyrus wanted to say hey, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat, and T.J. passed him with merely a polite grin of acknowledgment, some days even a frown. Eventually,  _ everyone  _ caught onto it. Marty was the first to speak one day at lunch, “So, not to be rude, but does Cyrus actually  _ like  _ T.J., or is he just going to keep leading him on?” 

Cyrus choked on a baby carrot, and Jonah clapped his back dramatically as he answered, “Cyrus and T.J. are just friends, Marty. No one is leading anyone on.” 

“Oh,” Marty wrinkled his nose, “But I thought he told Cyrus something along the lines of, ‘He’d wait for him.’ Did I imagine that?” 

Buffy shot Cyrus a knowing look, “It’s not that Cyrus doesn’t like T.J., it’s that he likes T.J.  _ so much  _ that he’s afraid to do anything about it. Am I right or am I right?” 

Cyrus pouted like a petulant child, crossing his arms over his chest, “You should really stop talking to your mother about me.” Buffy shrugged, “And, in any case, we all understand the dangers anxiety can present, but by choosing to listen to it? I don’t know, Cyrus, it just doesn’t sound like you’re being very fair to T.J.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, “It’s not like I told him we were boyfriends.” 

Buffy quirked a brow, “Good. Then it won’t bother you that he and Kira Thompson are going out.” 

Both Jonah and Cyrus’s mouths went slack-jawed. “What? But she wouldn’t even talk to  _ me _ . How could she possibly be going out with T.J. Kippen? Dude is like mad scary.” 

Cyrus looked around the cafeteria until his gaze landed on T.J., his arm around Kira as they laughed to their friends about something that probably wasn’t that funny. Cyrus also noticed that T.J. had changed tables. He was no longer eating with Amber, Iris, and Libby, but Reed and the rest of the basketball team. Cyrus huffed a sigh of indignation and, honestly, hurt. 

But Buffy didn’t seem to have even an ounce of sympathy for him, “Hate to say you brought this on yourself, Cyrus, but you brought this on yourself.” 

Cyrus scoffed, “Me? Are you serious? What about him waiting for me?” 

Jonah and Marty turned surprised gazes on him at that, “Are you saying you expected and even  _ wanted  _ T.J. to wait for someone who makes it seem he doesn’t like him? Because, no offense, Cy-Guy, but that sounds kind of selfish.” 

Color flooded Cyrus’s cheeks as he considered this, “And even you saw it?” 

Jonah didn’t have the strength to be offended, “Yeah, I did.” 

Cyrus sniffed to keep from crying. He had always known this  _ could  _ happen, he just hoped it wouldn’t. Buffy turned a grimace-y smile on him. “If it helps, I’ve played with Kira. Kicked her off the team, even, when she made three girls cry and hogged the ball all of practice. She isn’t a nice person.” 

Cyrus looked back at Kira and T.J. laughing it up at his new lunch table, “Neither was he.” 

“But he is now,” Marty reminded him. 

Cyrus nodded, “Is there a way that I can get him back? Assuming he was ever mine to begin with.” 

“Cyrus, he’s still yours,” Jonah shrugged beside him, “But you have to ask yourself if you want him to be.” 

The three of them stared at Jonah in awe as he ate the rest of his mashed potatoes. When he finally finished, he threw his fork down and relaxed into his seat. “What?” 

Buffy narrowed her eyes, “When did you get so good at giving advice?” 

Jonah shrugged, “Oh, I texted Walker about this. Hope you don’t mind.” Cyrus shook his head. “He’s usually pretty good at this stuff.” 

Cyrus nodded, “Oh, okay. Well, any tips on what I should do if I  _ do  _ want him to be mine?” 

Buffy tapped her chin in thought, “Not sure. Unless you think you could top the best apology in the world.” 

Cyrus groaned, “How am I supposed to do  _ that _ ?” 

Marty shrugged, “You’ll figure it out.” Then, all three of his friends got up and walked away without him. 

“Wait, guys!” Cyrus scrambled to collect his things, but his previous conversation partners were quickly replaced by new ones. Amber, Libby, and Iris slid into their places like they had set up some sort of exchange. Cyrus wouldn’t put it past them. He glanced at Libby, “What are you doing here?” Iris signed the entire conversation for her. 

Amber started in, “We heard you’re having some problems with my brother. Not to make you worry, but I see T.J. slipping into some of his old ways again in order to deal with his hurt. He feels rejected by you, and he’s turning into toxic T.J. Kippen again. He hasn’t done anything really bad yet, but I’m afraid he will if you don’t stop him.” 

Iris nodded, “He’s hanging out with Kira Thompson, calls himself going out with her, and T.J. came out to us as gay years ago.” 

Cyrus paused, astonished, “He did?” 

Libby nodded, signing and mouthing,  _ He did.  _

Cyrus felt his lower lip jut out, “But what am I supposed to do about it?” 

Libby started signing, and Iris spoke for her, “She says that T.J. likes you. That you bring out the best in him. She says you need to--Libby, I am  _ not  _ saying that.” Iris shuddered, and Cyrus felt himself get red. “She says you need to tell him how you feel so he doesn’t make the mistake of thinking something’s wrong with him. If he starts to think that, he’ll be angry at himself and think he’s broken. He’ll turn back into who he used to be.” 

Cyrus frowned, “But I don’t get it. Why would someone like T.J. like someone like me?” 

Amber rolled her eyes, “You’ve been hanging out with Jonah  _ way  _ too much.” She scooted closer to Cyrus, “Cyrus, you’re ridiculously smart, incredibly handsome, and a total catch. My brother would be an idiot  _ not  _ to like you. And don’t you even  _ mention  _ Jonah. Because he just proves my point considering he’s also an idiot.” 

Cyrus laughed at that, “Fine, but do you really think it’ll work? I mean, if T.J. wants to date Kira, why should anything I have to say change that?” 

“He doesn’t want Kira!” Libby yelled, and Cyrus blushed at making her have to use her voice. He knew how uncomfortable that made her. She finished off signing something that Cyrus could understand,  _ He wants you _ . 

Cyrus sighed, “I’m scared.” 

Amber took one of his hands in her own, “Cyrus, if you keep listening to your fears, you’re going to end up here every time. I know what rejection feels like. Rejection from Jonah, too. It  _ hurts _ . But it reminds you that you can get past the pain, that there’s someone else out there for you, that you are  _ strong _ .” 

Iris took his other hand, “Cyrus, you can’t hide forever.” 

Cyrus blew out a long and taxing breath, “Okay. I’m afraid, but I’ll do it. Especially if it helps T.J.” 

Amber wrapped him in a tight embrace, “Thank you, Cyrus. It means a lot.”

“And let us know if you need us,” Iris offered in a sing-song voice as she got up from the table, winking as she helped Libby up, “We’re always up for a good romance scene.” 

Libby wished him,  _ Good luck, Cyrus!  _

He looked around him as though a plan would lay itself in his lap. And when the chocolate-chocolate chip muffin stand revealed itself to him, Cyrus was sure that it had.


	11. Stolen Kisses and Shattered Stereotypes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having second thoughts about making this happen only 30000 words in so some affirmations or second opinions would be super appreciated!! Let me know if you think any of the content itself should be edited (ur girl is aware of the grammar mistakes and promises to fix them at some point in her life lol). Thanks for reading, and don't forget to kudos and comment to lmk what you think!

T.J. was shooting baskets in his backyard when Cyrus showed up. It had taken him a stupidly long amount of time to get ready, and he wore a baggy sweater with triangles in red, white, and green on the front of it over dark-washed skinny jeans as well as a pair of combat boots Andi had let him borrow. Cyrus was pretty sure he looked stupid, but he felt most himself in something like this, and he wanted to be himself when he confessed to T.J. T.J. got angry when he overcorrected his shot, watching the ball hit the backboard as he cursed, running a hand through his hair. 

Cyrus took the moment to walk onto the pavement, waving at T.J. kindly. “It was just one shot. You’ve made them all before.” 

He shrugged his shoulders, and T.J. smirked, “I guess you’re right. What’re you doing here, Underdog?” His lips pulled up at the name. 

Cyrus smiled softly, taking a seat in the grass where T.J. set his jacket out for him. Their shoulders brushed as they spoke to one another, “Rumor has it you’re going with Kira Thompson.” 

T.J. laughed, “You trust rumors?” 

Cyrus shrugged, pulling his knees into his chest, “I don’t know. Should I?” 

T.J. pulled his lower lip between his teeth, “Cyrus, you already know how I feel about you.” 

“I know.” Cyrus picked at the cuff of his pants leg, “But maybe you made a promise to someone when you were angry with me?” 

“I’ve never been angry with you, Cyrus.” T.J. shook his head before dipping it low so that it was well within Cyrus’s personal bubble. He let his chin rest on Cyrus’s knee, and Cyrus ran his fingers through his un-gelled hair. “It’s just so hard to get you to communicate sometimes. Kira asked if it was okay for her to talk to me. I said yeah. I didn’t realize she meant  _ talk  _ until Amber was smacking me in the neck for dating a girl.” 

He shuddered at the memory, and Cyrus let his other hand rest on T.J.’s neck. He summoned the courage to place a delicate kiss there, asking, “All better?” 

T.J. nodded his head. He twisted so that he was looking up at Cyrus now, his head in Cyrus’s lap as Cyrus cradled it with his hands. “I know my sister probably talked to you. I’m hurt, yeah, but I would never revert to my old ways, Cyrus. If you reject me, it just means there’s someone else out there who’s better for you than I am.” 

Cyrus felt his brows furrow, “Who could be better than you?” 

T.J. raised his hand and let it trace the outline of Cyrus’s jaw, “Jonah.” 

Cyrus swatted T.J.’s hand away, feeling his face grow red with the accusation, “No offense, T.J., but any remnants left unaddressed from my feelings for Jonah were sucked into an other-worldly vortex the second I met you.” He shook his head, “T.J., I hate to have to ask you to be patient with me because it’s selfish.” He dragged one finger down T.J.’s cheek and stopped at his chin. “Your skin is really soft, by the way.” T.J. laughed. Cyrus thought of his friends as he listened to his heart rather than his anxiety, letting his finger slip past T.J.’s chin and down the column of his throat, over his Adam’s apple and the base of his throat. He heard T.J. suck in a sharp breath, but when he looked into his eyes, they were an electrifying dark green, charged by the feeling of Cyrus’s skin against T.J.’s. He tilted his head in question, and T.J. nodded. Cyrus let his finger dip below the top of T.J.’s hoodie, and before he knew what was happening, T.J. was taking his hoodie off and throwing it to the ground, and Cyrus was fully dragging his finger along the skin under T.J.’s white t-shirt, which Cyrus also hoped he’d take off. He blew out a breath in T.J.’s direction, “How am I supposed to trust myself and my feelings when you look at me like this?” 

“ _ Cyrus _ ,” T.J. growled, sitting up so that his face was inches away from Cyrus’s as he cupped Cyrus’s face in his hands, “I’m not fragile. There’s nothing you could say or do to hurt me.” 

Cyrus gave a slight imperceptible nod before closing his eyes and giving in to the more impulsive side of himself. He closed the distance between his lips and T.J.’s, sliding his tongue between them when he was finished admiring the shape of them, how soft they were, how they fit like a puzzle piece against his. A strangled noise made its way from T.J.’s throat as Cyrus’s tongue slid against his, and Cyrus wanted to hear that sound a thousand times on repeat. He’d make a Spotify playlist out of it. He wanted to figure out all the ways to make T.J. do  _ that _ , and that was what frightened him. He sensed hesitation in the way T.J. moved, and he knew it was the result of uncertainty. Just to make his intentions perfectly clear, Cyrus shoved T.J. harshly in the chest, pushing the taller boy roughly up against the grass. In an effort not to lose the taste of T.J. in all of this, Cyrus sunk his teeth in the other boy’s lower lip so that as he fell, Cyrus went down with him. The gentle pressure emitted less of a wince and more of a confused but satisfied noise from T.J. When T.J. was beautifully laid out on the ground under him, Cyrus let one hand rest on T.J.’s abdomen, slipping under the fabric of his t-shirt and exploring the muscles and skin there. Skin-- _ everywhere _ . Cyrus was fairly certain he had never been so aware of the human body in his entire life, and he had made a 98 in human anatomy class. He rested the other hand on T.J.’s neck while he kissed him. Kissing T.J. made Cyrus understand all the hype around kissing. When it made you feel this  _ alive _ , why wouldn’t you do it? Cyrus didn’t want to stop, but he was out of breath. It was at this moment and this moment alone that Cyrus wished he’d worked a little harder in gym class. Would that give him more stamina or endurance? He wondered this as he pulled away from T.J., who was looking at Cyrus with so much awe and affection that Cyrus wanted to kiss him again. He gulped, color flooding his cheeks as he realized what he had just been doing, “I’m guessing you imagined our first kiss a lot sweeter than that, right?” He couldn’t even meet T.J.’s eyes. Instead, he stared at T.J.’s lips in concern and wonder. They were swollen, so Cyrus was worried, but he was also kind of amazed that  _ he  _ had done  _ that _ . 

T.J. sat up, bringing Cyrus’s hands into his chest, “Cyrus, that may not have been as innocent as I imagined it, but we also started out with kisses on the cheek and forehead. That’s pretty sweet to me. And we can still do all of those things.” He placed Cyrus’s hands on his stomach, “But if you want more, you shouldn’t let anyone pressure you into feeling ashamed of that. God knows I won’t.” 

Cyrus blushed at that, wrapping his arms around T.J.’s waist, “I’m sorry I was pushing you away.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t understand why you were doing it,” T.J. apologized, placing a delicate kiss on Cyrus’s forehead, “Thank you for coming to me.” 

“Thanks for having me.” Cyrus still couldn’t bring himself to look Teej in the eye, so he didn’t. He merely sat next to the other boy and took in what the world had to offer them. 

What Cyrus didn’t count on was for T.J.’s teasing to get  _ worse  _ after that. For instance, at the next horror movie night they had, T.J. made a real show proving that then and now were different. When Cyrus cowered behind T.J.’s hoodie, T.J. scooted away from him. Cyrus’s expression fell flat. Luckily, none of the others were paying them much attention. Walker and Jonah had actually fallen asleep. Libby and Iris were making out on the floor in the far corner of the room. Andi and Amber were making popcorn in the kitchen. Marty and Buffy were quietly watching the movie. Cyrus pouted, tapping T.J. on the shoulder, “You aren’t going to let me hide behind your jacket?” 

T.J. shrugged, “Sorry, I only let my boyfriend hide behind me like that. Have you met him? He’s  _ adorable _ . He gets this little crease between his eyebrows when he’s thinking too hard. And he looks  _ so cute  _ when he tries getting mad. His heart’s just too big for it. And,  _ God _ , the way he wrinkles his nose. It makes me want to drop my pants for him.” Cyrus gasped, blushing as he hid his face under T.J.’s hoodie. He could hear T.J.’s voice get closer to him, and his heart rate increased in his chest. “But you have to promise not to tell. Because he’s not supposed to know that. I plan to tell him in a much sexier way.” 

Cyrus was surprised he hadn’t exploded yet. How did T.J. just  _ say those things _ ? Just like that? Cyrus felt his blush deepen, “He must be lucky to have you.” 

“Yeah,” T.J. said, “I guess. It’s just, well.” He shifted so that Cyrus could no longer use him as a shield and plucked both of Cyrus’s hands from over his eyes. Now, Cyrus was forced to look at him. He flushed a darker shade of red, “I’m not sure he knows he’s my boyfriend. What do you think about it?” 

“I think--” But before Cyrus could finish telling him just that, he let out a little sneeze and looked sheepishly back at T.J., who was staring at him like he was a puppy or something. “T.J.?” 

T.J.’s grin widened, “Okay, you  _ have  _ to do that again. I’m serious. That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

Cyrus averted his gaze, embarrassed, “Shut up. It’s a normal human reaction to the--” He was cut off suddenly. Because T.J. Kippen’s face was inches from his own, and he wasn’t as bold as he had been when he needed to apologize. He felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him as T.J.’s face clouded his vision. 

T.J. let out a breath, “Sorry, what was that? I didn’t catch the end. I think maybe I--” It was Cyrus’s turn to cut T.J. off as he pulled his face down to meet Cyrus’s, their lips meeting in a slow and long kiss. T.J. tasted the same way he smelled, like peppermint hot chocolate. When they pulled apart, T.J. looked dazed, but apparently alert enough to ask, “Hm. That was sweet. Can we do that thing we did the other day again?” 

Cyrus punched him in the shoulder, “That’s not funny, T.J. You know how I feel about that.” But he wasn’t really upset. He knew T.J. was teasing him. 

“I’m kidding, Cyrus. I love this just as much.” As much as Cyrus loved the nicknames T.J. gave him, nothing compared to the sound of Cyrus’s name on T.J.’s lips. 

Cyrus looked away as he asked, “Say it again.” 

T.J. placed a soft kiss to the base of Cyrus’s neck. “What?” He slowly began kissing up the skin of Cyrus’s throat, finally stopping to hover beside Cyrus’s ear, where he took the lobe between his teeth, startling Cyrus, “ _ Cyrus _ ?” Cyrus gulped, nodding emphatically as T.J. shot him a mischievous grin, “I don’t know, Underdog, you’re gonna have to work for something like that.” 

_ Such a  _ tease _.  _ Cyrus folded his arms over his chest defiantly, sticking his lips out in a pout. He cast a glance over to see that both Marty and Buffy had left. Where had they disappeared off to? Cyrus didn’t much care, to be honest. He stuck his tongue out at T.J., “Does me acting like a brat make you want to drop your pants, too?” Cyrus swore he meant it as a snipe, maybe even a dig at T.J., but, if anything, his voice sounded needy to even his own ears. He dropped his arms and left them hanging at his sides as he waited for T.J.’s answer. 

T.J. sunk his teeth into his lower lip, “I’m afraid you’ll be freaked out if I answer honestly.” 

Cyrus shrugged, “I can do freaky.” He blushed at the double meaning behind his own words, hiding his face behind his hands once more. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

T.J.’s voice was low and laced with something Cyrus didn’t quite know how to describe besides animalistic, “It’s okay if you did.” 

“ _ T.J. _ ” Cyrus opened his arms up like he wanted a hug, but T.J. knew what he wanted. T.J. laughed as he hoisted Cyrus off the couch and onto his back, rushing up to T.J.’s bedroom. It was the Kippen’s turn to host movie night, after all. He dropped Cyrus onto his back gently on the bed, scrambling to hover above him and kiss Cyrus. 

There was something so sickeningly sweet about kissing T.J. Kippen that Cyrus felt dizzy every time they did it. He laughed against T.J.’s lips as T.J.’s shoes fell off, forgotten on the floor in front of the bed. T.J. kissed Cyrus’s throat, laughing, “You think that’s funny? You make me work this hard for it, and you laugh?” 

Cyrus blushed, his body warm all over as T.J. trailed kisses down the skin of his stomach, “Well, it is. I mean, wasn’t I supposed to be the one working for it? Guess the tables have turned.” T.J. suddenly stopped kissing him, and Cyrus worried he’d said something wrong. When he blinked, T.J.’s face appeared before him, his eyes clouded with lust. “Oh. Did I, uhm…?” 

“So you want to get cocky, is that it?” T.J. placed a small pressure on the inside of Cyrus’s neck, and Cyrus felt himself preen into it. Cyrus never considered himself a very greedy guy. Well, not until he met T.J. Kippen. 

“Ugh,  _ T.J. _ ” It was a desperate whine, and Cyrus was used to T.J. giving into it, but T.J. simply sat up straight and perched himself on the foot of the bed. Cyrus frowned, “If you’re trying to prove a point, point taken. We’re totally on equal footing here. Now--” He was about to pull T.J. in for another kiss when the sound of T.J.’s voice stopped him. 

“No, well, I mean,  _ yeah _ . I was going to try and prove a point, but now I’m just thinking… This is where we met, you know?” Oh, right. The Kippens hosted the last party of the summer. And Cyrus had found T.J. here, handcuffed to the bed. 

Cyrus grinned, wrapping his arms around T.J.’s neck and kissing his cheek from behind, resting his chin in the space between his neck and shoulder. “That’s right. And look at us now. Still kind of--” 

“Horny? Sex-crazed? Sexually repressed?” T.J. interrupted, grabbing Cyrus’s waist and tackling him back down onto the bed. 

Cyrus laughed, shaking his head at T.J., “I was going to say awkward. You’re so obsessed with sex.” 

“I’m a teenage guy, Cyrus.” Upon reassessment of his words, T.J. frowned, “Not that you’re weird if you’re a teenage boy and  _ not  _ sex-obsessed.” He pulled away from Cyrus instantly like he just found out Cyrus had the plague. He frowned, “Is this about you not wanting to have sex? Because I won’t pressure you into doing something you aren’t interested in and/or ready for yet.” 

Cyrus chuckled, “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not  _ not  _ ready to have sex.” Cyrus shrugged, “It’s about timing for me, romance. I guess I don’t think about it as much as most of the guys I know. Compared to them, my thoughts about it are much more… historically  _ feminine _ . Does that make me prudish?” 

“Cyrus,” T.J. laughed, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. In his time spent with T.J. since their first kiss, he was learning T.J. loved to kiss that place on Cyrus’s lips, “You’re not prudish. And I wouldn’t care if you were. When you really lo--” He corrected himself quickly, “When you really like someone, that isn’t the only thing that matters. Just, a lot of guys think it is.” T.J. kissed Cyrus’s forehead before relaxing into the bed next to Cyrus, “And while I’m probably always thinking about having sex with you--” Cyrus felt the tips of his ears turn bright red as he squeezed T.J.’s hand, “--That doesn’t mean I can’t be satisfied by the other parts of our relationship. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, too. More than just physical attraction does that.” 

Cyrus grinned, “Good.” They both turned on their sides in order to face each other, and Cyrus swiped at T.J.’s nose, “Have you really thought about having sex with me?” 

“You might be pervy, Underdog,” T.J. answered, rolling back over onto his back, “But you’re not ready for a walk in my head yet.” 

Cyrus kissed T.J.’s nose, “Thank you for being patient with me.” 

“Don’t thank me for it. It doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything but being in a relationship,” T.J. laughed, “A relationship I really like being in.” 

Cyrus nodded. He hugged T.J.’s shoulders and rested his head on his chest, letting the sound of their synchronized breathing lull him to sleep. 


	12. What Boyfriends Do

Cyrus stood a few feet from the chocolate-chocolate chip muffins, guiding his lungs through a sharp intake of breath as only two shined on the silver platter Dinah had set out. She sent Cyrus a wink, and he smiled sheepishly at her. He started to take a step toward the tray but stopped when Reed and Kira started nudging each other in the shoulders and whispering about Cyrus as they took one of the muffins. Cyrus’s face fell as Reed walked past him and threw the muffin on the ground, Kira stepping on it with her heel. “That’s how we feel about homos,” she added sourly, cackling as she linked her arm through Reed’s and sashayed off with him at her side. There was no way Cyrus could get a muffin now. Sure, there was still one left, but there was still a line full of people to get their food. Cyrus blew out a shaky breath and turned around. 

Right into the chest of his taller and much more athletic boyfriend, T.J. Kippen, whose lips twitched into a frown, “You weren’t considering walking away from that muffin, were you?” 

Cyrus looked around to make sure no one was watching, cheeks burning as he stared at the ground, “T.J., you don’t have to get all overprotective boyfriend on me at school. I know what people might say about us if they knew…” After all, despite being together for a few weeks, they still hadn’t told any of their friends. Cyrus knew it was really his fault. T.J. was constantly waiting on him, after all. Cyrus wondered why he still stuck around. Cyrus was such an immature boyfriend. That’s why he was giving T.J. this out, an opportunity to end things cordially by being honest about his feelings. 

He offered Cyrus an unimpressed frown, “That’s the saddest attempt at a breakup I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had to break up with _girls_ , Cyrus Goodman.” He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest determinedly. He jerked his head in the direction of the muffins, “You remember the steps, right?” 

It was at this moment that Jonah Beck decided to be throwing his trash away. “Hey, Cyrus!” He glanced between Cyrus, the muffin, and T.J., and a frown settled on his face, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to try and get the last muffin.” 

T.J. made himself a little taller, staring Jonah down. To Cyrus’s surprise, Jonah shrunk back a bit. “He’s not going to _try_ , he’s going to get it.” 

Despite Jonah’s obvious fear of T.J., he looked at Cyrus, “He can’t do that.” 

“ _Hey_ ,” T.J. said, glowering at Jonah and puffing out his chest, “Don’t tell him what he can’t do.” Cyrus, being the imaginative and hopeless romantic that he was, felt like they were fighting over his honor rather than a muffin, and T.J. was winning majorly. T.J. looked back at Cyrus, features softening, “Walk up to the muffin like you already own it.” Jonah swallowed whatever he was about to say as Cyrus nodded. T.J. raised his eyebrow, a smile taking form on his face, “Then, you take the muffin.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose, asking again, “That’s it?” 

T.J. nodded, giving Cyrus a push in the direction of the muffins, “You got this.” 

_He had this. He had this. He had this._ He took a deep breath, staring at all of the people waiting in line for food as he stepped toward the muffin. At the last minute, his need to be liked cut in, and he smiled softly at the people, “Don’t mind if I--?” His sentence wasn’t even out before the mob descended on him, pitchforks and knives in the form of snide remarks baring their blades at Cyrus. 

From afar, Cyrus heard T.J. sigh, “Hey,” he yelled, “ _He’s with me_.” The mob’s claws retracted themselves and the murmuring died down to unhappy silence as Cyrus took the last muffin walking back toward T.J. triumphantly. 

Jonah grinned, “Good Man, that was--” 

But Cyrus didn’t hear the rest of what Jonah said because he was already wrapping his arms around T.J.’s waist, careful not to destroy the muffin in the process. He smiled against T.J.’s chest, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me,” T.J. whispered in his ear, pulling Cyrus’s hands from around his waist and revealing to Cyrus the muffin that _he_ had just grabbed, “ _You_ did that.” 

Cyrus looked at the muffin again, sniffing it dramatically, “You are going to taste so good!” 

T.J. lowered his voice to a whisper, “Cyrus, don’t talk dirty to me at school like that. It’s a little inappropriate.” 

The tips of Cyrus’s ears turned pink as he narrowed his eyes at T.J., unimpressed, “I hate you.” 

“But if you hate me, you won’t ever get to taste me again.” He winked at Cyrus before sauntering off, Cyrus following quickly behind him, leaving Jonah to wonder at the sudden emptiness in his heart. Yes, it took Jonah seeing Cyrus with someone else to realize what a strong presence Cyrus had been in Jonah’s life before T.J. and how Jonah had taken that for granted. Of course, Jonah wouldn’t say this to Cyrus until much, much later, long after Cyrus needed to hear it. At the time, Jonah walked off, shrugging his shoulders and chalking it all up to needing another bite to eat. Cyrus, meanwhile, was busy chasing after T.J. to set the record straight. He tugged on the end of T.J.’s shirt, crossing his arms over his chest when T.J. finally turned to see him. T.J. frowned, “Where’d your muffin go, Muffin?” 

Cyrus glanced up guiltily, “I ate it.” 

“So fast,” T.J. tutted, a suggestive grin on his lips. 

Cyrus faltered, “Anyway, I wasn’t talking dirty to you. And by no means do I plan to _taste you_.” He feigned disgust at the mere idea of it. T.J. tossed his head back and laughed, leaving Cyrus completely and utterly confused as he walked away. Cyrus was persistent in following him, “That wasn’t meant as a joke. Why are you laughing about it?” But T.J. didn’t answer him. He followed him through every corridor in the school until eventually, they came out at a back exit, T.J. dragging him by the hand into the woods behind the school. Cyrus wrinkled his nose at their surroundings, “Uhm, Teej, not that I don’t love sneaking off with you, but nature isn’t my biggest fan. I can send you a list of my allergies if you--” He was cut off by T.J. pulling him forcefully against him, an arm around his back, leaving no room between the two as Cyrus unintentionally backed himself against a tree. T.J. let his arm drop, instead putting a hand on either side of the bark by Cyrus’s head, effectively pinning Cyrus below him. Cyrus was breathless and a little dizzy as he asked, “Why’d you--?” 

He was cut off again as T.J. leaned his head in a bit, eyelids fluttering as he watched Cyrus, “I laughed because you’re still playing hard to get.” He ran his thumb along the skin of Cyrus’s cheek before letting it trace Cyrus’s jawline and stop just above his chin. “There’s something about the chase--” He moved his mouth so that his breath fanned Cyrus’s cheek, breath warm in his ear as he spoke, “The build-up of it--” He grabbed Cyrus’s butt and squeezed, making Cyrus yelp as he tried backing further into the tree, maybe melting into it, his cheeks breaking his internal thermometer again. “You like it when I tease you.” 

Cyrus refused to meet T.J.’s gaze, baffled. His voice was a whine, “ _Tee-jay_.” 

T.J.’s lips twitched down into a frown again as he hoisted Cyrus up against himself, his hands supporting Cyrus’s thighs as Cyrus wrapped himself around T.J., his legs meeting behind his waist and his arms meeting behind his neck. T.J. kissed his lips gently, “Sorry, Muffin. Just wanted to try something out.” 

Cyrus wondered if it was actually possible to blush all over. He looked away from T.J., “Is this supposed to feel wrong?” 

T.J. sighed, dropping Cyrus gently back onto the ground beneath them, “Are you still worried about other people, Muffin?” 

“Not for my sake,” he shrugged, “I mean, I have nothing to lose, really. I’m already kind of a dork. But you? The captain of the basketball team? T.J., what would people think if they knew I was your…” Cyrus trailed. He hadn’t actually said the word yet. 

T.J. kissed him slowly on the corner of his mouth, “Babe,” Cyrus shivered at the word, “I don’t care what people think. And I’m not asking you to do that for me. I know in the past I cared a lot about that stuff but, Cyrus,” he pulled on the pendant around Cyrus’s neck, an old one that Andi had made him with worn brown leather through a silver coin. “You’re the most important thing to me right now. The only thing that matters. You aren’t holding me back.” _That_. That’s what Cyrus had been afraid of. He hadn’t figured it out until just then. He pulled T.J. into a long and slow embrace, squealing when T.J. picked him up and twirled him around before racing around the forest with him, holding him princess-style like a bride or something. Cyrus couldn’t contain his laughter as he goaded T.J. to stop. When he did, they were both out of breath, collapsing onto the dirt under them. T.J. turned to look at Cyrus, “You’re going to get your shirt dirty.” Yes, Cyrus was back to wearing sweaters and button-ups full time. Because T.J. liked Cyrus like this, like himself, and so did Cyrus. And at the end of the day, as long as Cyrus liked himself, it didn’t matter if anyone else did. 

Cyrus found T.J.’s hand on the forest floor, “That’s okay. I’m willing to get a little dirty if it’s for you.” 

T.J. smiled at that, “Can I just lay here and talk to you for a bit?” 

Cyrus looked at the time on his phone, “T.J., we have class in twenty minutes.” 

“I know,” T.J. sighed, “But if I promise to have you back in time?” 

Cyrus pretended he needed time to think before rolling his eyes, “Fine. What do you want to talk about?” 

T.J. grinned, hoisting himself up on his elbows as Cyrus did the same, “Okay, so don’t judge me, but Amber used to be obsessed with this movie, _The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement_.” 

Cyrus laughed, nodding excitedly, “Yeah, that’s an honorary GHC movie night option.” 

T.J.'s smile brightened, “Amber and I used to watch it all the time. And there’s this scene with Anne Hathaway and the guy--” 

“Chris Pine. One of my first crushes before I realized what a crush was,” Cyrus chuckled. 

“Yeah, Chris Pine. They thumb-wrestle, and whoever loses has to answer whatever the winner asks. You know it?” The anticipation on T.J.’s face sliced something wide open in Cyrus’s chest and gave T.J. access to everything inside of it. 

Cyrus nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I know it.” 

“Great. Well,” T.J. started their first thumb-wrestle, and Cyrus struggled until he was pretty sure Teej let him win. 

He smiled at T.J., “Okay. When did you figure out you were gay?” 

T.J.’s expression turned thoughtful, “My first wet dream.” Cyrus blushed, not meeting T.J.’s eyes, “Harry Styles.” 

“Harry _Styles_?” Cyrus did his best to contain his giggles, but he was sad to say it didn’t work very well. 

T.J. narrowed his eyes at him, “Last time I let you win.” Then, he threw his arms up in a defensive motion, “Plus, Amber was obsessed with him.” 

“Uh-huh, Amber, right,” Cyrus cooed, playing T.J. again and losing this time. 

T.J. leaned in closer to Cyrus, “All right. What about you? When did you know you were gay?” 

It felt like someone had cut down all the trees in the wood and depleted Cyrus of all other sources of oxygen. He frowned, “Are you sure you want to know?” 

That was answer enough for T.J. His face paled, “Jonah, right?” 

“Don’t be jealous,” Cyrus begged in a small voice. 

T.J. stretched out on his back again, his thumbs still raised to play Cyrus, “I can’t make any promises. I’m sorry. But I promise not to take my jealousy out on _you_. How about that?” 

Cyrus went over it in his head, “That means you’ll probably still get huffy around him, right?” 

T.J. shook his head, “I’ll try my best not to. Scout’s honor.” 

“There is no way you’re a Scout,” Cyrus mocked. 

T.J. feigned offense, “Guess you won’t find out unless you beat me.” 

Cyrus narrowed his eyes at that, playing his hardest and still losing to T.J. He pouted, “Can I go anyway?” 

“If you think that pout’s going to--” Cyrus kissed T.J. on the cheek, fireworks exploding inside him when the skin there turned pink, “Fine,” Teej grumbled. 

“Thank you, Teej.” He gave him a quick hug before asking, “Did you like Kira?” 

“Cyrus,” T.J. laughed, leaning forward on his elbows to be closer to him, “That was a waste of a question. I’ve already told you I’m gay.” 

“Well, maybe you’re bi or something! I didn’t know!” Cyrus wanted to dig himself a hole now to hide in forever. 

“Don’t hide from me,” T.J. ordered as he saw Cyrus’s hands began to inch toward his face, “It won’t end well for you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” And, because Cyrus was curious, he shoved his hands over his eyes, disappointed when nothing happened. He waited a minute before frowning, “T.J., I thought you said-- _ahahahaha_ \--T.J., stop it! I didn’t mean to-- _hahahaha_.” Sure enough, T.J. was tickling him, and Cyrus couldn’t catch his breath. “T.J.!” Cyrus tried pulling on the other man’s shirt, but he ended up pulling on the waistband of T.J.’s jeans, and if T.J. had been considering stopping at all before, he certainly was now. Cyrus retracted his hand from T.J.’s waistband quickly, using the same hand to cover his eyes, “T.J., I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” There was a low, gravelly tone to T.J.’s voice that drew Cyrus closer to an edge he sort of wanted to spiral off of. Before T.J. could back away, Cyrus decided to take advantage of T.J.’s position above him. He lifted his neck slightly, meeting T.J.’s lips with his own, his hands traveling the skin of T.J.’s stomach like he’d never felt it before. They curled around the sides and discovered T.J.’s back, climbing up the column of his spine and spreading to explore everything from the middle to the sides. T.J. let out a sigh in contentment. 

Cyrus blushed under the taller boy’s hips, “T.J.?” 

“Yeah, Cyrus?” His hands were in the other boy’s hair again. Cyrus was pretty sure T.J. was afraid to touch him. He was afraid of what he’d do. Which made T.J. _such_ a hypocrite, but Cyrus was okay with this for now. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” Time froze. T.J. froze. Cyrus froze. Everything froze. 

T.J. gripped the end of his shirt cautiously, “Cyrus, are you sure that you--?” 

Cyrus grabbed the shirt from T.J.’s hands and took it the rest of the way off, marveling at the boy under it. T.J. wasn’t a boy--he was a _man_. And a beautiful one, at that. Cyrus heard a lot of people compare bodies to works of art, and if that was true, T.J. was a sculpture. He wasn’t the nice, soft watercolor painting on the wall when you walked in. No, T.J. was something that required more edge and a deeper look. The ridges of his body felt to Cyrus like scars, something T.J. had took some getting used to but eventually found out made him stronger. The beauty marks were imperfections, mistakes the artist made while he was sculpting, places he had chipped too hard or failed to paint enough. Cyrus wouldn’t call it a mistake, though. Andi’s philosophy was that mistakes in art weren’t mistakes at all but quirks. Cyrus thought T.J.’s quirks were beautiful. T.J. cleared his throat, and Cyrus realized that he was still staring, and T.J.’s hands were still in Cyrus’s hair, frozen there like he wasn’t sure what to do. 

Cyrus was sure of what to do. He brought his lips to T.J.’s once more before pushing him onto the ground, “Just for a second,” he promised. Then, Cyrus let his hands explore T.J.’s body like it was the eighth wonder of the world. To Cyrus, it was. He didn’t understand why people ever wore close if underneath they looked and felt like this. He ran his hands along T.J.’s skin slowly, quickly, at a medium pace. He ran his fingers up and down and side to side and even diagonally. And through it all, T.J. didn’t even shift. Only when Cyrus pulled him up by the belt loops in his jeans so he could feel T.J.’s back again. 

The indication that T.J. gave that he was even still alive was a heavy breath every few seconds and an increasingly darker shade of red in his cheeks. When Cyrus’s hands finally stopped roaming, two fingers digging into the dip at the back of T.J.’s jeans, his teeth sunk into his lower lip, T.J. asked in a raspy voice (he almost sounded hoarse), “Is it my turn yet?” 

And Cyrus nodded. When they switched roles, everything was different. Where T.J. was open and calm, Cyrus was bashful, his cheeks burning so red it was comical. Another thing was that T.J. kept talking. “Cyrus, you’re so beautiful. You’re magnificent. How have I never seen this before? How can I wait to see it again?” Cyrus knew T.J. thought he was helping, but depending on how you looked at it, he really wasn’t. His words and the sound of his voice-- _broken, needy, lustful_ \--intensified the butterflies in Cyrus’s stomach other places, and Cyrus clenched his body so tight in an attempt to control it that he thought he would burst. Where Cyrus had taken his time, T.J. was somewhat aggressive, devouring Cyrus’s skin with first his hands and then his lips, leaving a fire in the wake of every touch and kiss. Cyrus shuddered under T.J.’s breath. T.J. also had a thing for Cyrus’s moles, Cyrus found out. Every time he saw one, he trailed sloppy kisses in the shape of circles all around it before kissing it and poking it with his finger, claiming, " _Mine_." If Cyrus thought he was greedy, he had nothing on T.J. like this. 

When he absolutely couldn't take the torture anymore, he choked out, " _T.J._ ," and T.J. stopped. Cyrus certainly couldn't bring himself to look T.J. in the eye now, "We should put our shirts back on." 

T.J. nodded, offering Cyrus his shirt as he dragged his tongue along his lower lip. Cyrus chanced a glance up at T.J.'s eyes and realized _this_ was broken. The dark green pools of T.J.'s eyes intrigued Cyrus to no end. He could easily get lost in them if he let himself. He blinked the thoughts away as they put their shirts back on, and T.J. offered Cyrus his hand to walk him back the way they came. They were silent as they walked. For Cyrus, he was still recovering, a panting and pent up mess. He tugged the end of his shirt down subconsciously, and T.J. wirelessly but his hoodie over Cyrus's head. It effectively covered up what Cyrus was hiding, and he silently thanked T.J. for it. Jonah and Marty greeted them at Cyrus's locker, Marty speaking first, "Where have you guys _been_ ? Kira was looking for you." He tipped his head in T.J.'s direction. "She was going _off_ about you leading her on. Said she wasn't finished with you yet." 

"Uh-oh." Cyrus wished he hadn't spoke because he was sure his voice gave away everything. 

Jonah gave him a funny look, "Is that Kippen's jacket, Cyrus?" 

Cyrus looked at T.J. and nodded. "Yeah, it is." 

Jonah shot Cyrus a confused expression, "Oh, are you two--?" 

With as much strength as he had, Cyrus answered, "T.J. is my boyfriend." 

"Oh," both Jonah and Marty said. Marty shrugged. Jonah smiled, "Okay, cool, then." Cyrus smiled at that. He felt something squeeze his hand and glanced at T.J. That's when he realized they hadn't stopped holding hands from their excursion in the woods. 

Cyrus squeezed back and didn't let go.


	13. Baby Taters and Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad cuz this is like a lot of fluff almost to the point of annoyance so BEAR WITH ME I'm trying to set something up for a later chapter that I'm not ACTUALLY sure will work but fingers crossed ;p also pls comment or kudos to lmk what you think!!!!!!! SORRY FOR TYPOS!!!!!

For the most part, things with T.J. were bliss. Cyrus didn’t want to jinx it by calling it perfect, but T.J. was definitely someone Cyrus could see himself one day making his husband. But Cyrus knew that was an intense way of thinking, and so T.J. would never hear about that. Well, he wasn’t supposed to. One afternoon when they were grocery shopping, that was put to the test. T.J. came up behind Cyrus, who was reaching in vain for the top shelf to grab a stuffed bear off of it, and jabbed him in the sides with his knuckles, emitting a yelp of surprise from Cyrus as well as an onslaught of swats to the chest. “Stop doing that!” 

T.J. snorted, grabbing the bear and handing it to Cyrus, “If you keep abusing me like this, Underdog, I’m not sure you’ll ever get this cute little bear.” He tilted his head for dramatic effect, “And that’s too bad. It would have been perfect for you.” 

“Pfft.” Cyrus folded his arms over his chest, “I don’t still sleep with stuffed animals.” 

“Oh, right, you sleep with men.” T.J. grabbed the buggy and hummed a tune Cyrus didn’t recognize as he walked into the next aisle. 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, acting angry with T.J. again, running up behind him and tapping him on the back. Luckily, it was nine at night, an hour before closing time, and there weren’t many people to witness their conversation. Cyrus frowned when T.J. turned to him smugly, “Take that back.” 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” T.J. furrowed his brows, “Have you been sleeping with women behind my back? That’s really not becoming of a husband, Cyrus.” Cyrus opened his mouth to argue back, but he lost all ability to function as T.J.’s words registered. By then, of course, T.J. had already pushed his cart into the next aisle. Cyrus growled, pulling T.J. to him by the front of his shirt. T.J.  _ tsk _ ed him and wagged his finger in front of Cyrus’s face, “Patience, young grasshopper. I’m looking for those rolled tacos you like, what are they called?” 

Cyrus felt his resolve weaken, “Taquitos.” T.J. smiled, opening a freezer to grab a box of them. He was so busy admiring the taller man, he almost forgot what to ask him. He leaned forward on his tiptoes and tapped T.J. in the chest. “For one thing, we haven’t slept together. Not in the way you’re implying it.” 

T.J. nodded, “Well, yeah, but we will one day. Right?” 

Cyrus ignored the question, “And for another, what did you mean by that husband comment?” 

T.J. shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal as he led Cyrus to the candy aisle. He picked out a pack of green gummy worms, “You like these, right?” Cyrus nodded, and T.J. threw them in the buggy before answering him, “I plan to make you my husband. But I can’t really do that if you cheat on me now, can I, Cyrus?” 

Cyrus’s heart stuttered in his chest, “When? When do you plan to make me your husband?” 

T.J. chuckled, ruffling the hair on Cyrus’s head, “When you’ll have me, of course. So silly.” He kept walking like what he had said wasn’t important. Cyrus frowned, following him and tugging on his sweatshirt naggingly. After throwing some peppermint hot chocolate into the buggy, he turned to Cyrus, “What’s up, Underdog?” 

Cyrus wanted to grab him by both arms and shake him free of his indifference, “What do you mean, ‘ _ What’s up? _ ’ You basically just proposed to me!” 

“Oh.” T.J. scratched the skin by his nose, “Sorry, why are we surprised by this?” 

“What do you-- _ ugh _ .” Cyrus threw his hands up in defeat. 

T.J. laughed, “Well, I don’t date someone if I don’t see myself with him for the rest of my life, you know? I plan to propose to you eventually, why not get the ball out there and rolling now?” 

Cyrus’s heart could explode right then and he wouldn’t be surprised by it, “You’re so soft. Like rough around the edges, but then you say stuff like this so casually, and I--” Cyrus felt tears at the back of his eyes, and he tried to swallow them down. 

“Are you okay, Underdog?” T.J. stepped closer cautiously, wiping the tears as they fell down Cyrus’s cheek. 

“Yes, I just--” He shoved T.J. in the chest, looking down at his feet rather than anything else. He sniffed. “ _ God _ , you are the absolute worst.” 

“I’ll remember not to say flattering things about you in the future?” T.J. laughed, to which Cyrus punched him in the shoulder. T.J. brought his lips to Cy’s forehead, pulling him into a warm embrace, “I’m sorry, Underdog. I knew you were a romantic. But saying these things to you feels natural to me. I’m sorry I made you cry.” 

“You idiot,” Cyrus sniffled, “I hate you so much.” 

T.J. ruffled Cyrus’s hair up a bit, “We both know you’re just saying that until you’re ready to say something else.” And T.J. was right about that. 

And at school? T.J. greeted Cyrus with a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin every morning as well as walking Cyrus to every class. He leaned against the locker by the English classroom door, opening Cyrus’s copy of  _ Like A Love Story  _ as he handed off the rest of his books. Cyrus didn’t think that was really necessary, considering he had a backpack for that, but T.J.  _ loved  _ making Cyrus blush when he carrying his textbooks for him at every class change. Currently, he flipped the page to passage about Art, a wild and charismatic openly gay character in the book. “This Art guy is really something, huh? You wish I acted more like him?” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes and attempted to grab the book back, but T.J. held it out of his reach. Cyrus frowned, “I bet Art wouldn’t hold my books above my head. Since when are you jealous of fictional characters?” 

T.J. scoffed, “I am no such thing. I’m just trying to figure out how to make you like me more.” 

“I like you well enough now,” Cyrus spoke through clenched teeth as he jumped, in vain, to get his book back. 

“Just well enough?” T.J. backed away from Cyrus at the same time Cyrus lunged for him, sending the book clattering to the floor a few feet above T.J.’s head. But it didn’t matter because Cyrus was straddling T.J.’s stomach. He blushed as T.J. raised his eyebrows at him, “Cyrus, if you wanted to  _ do stuff  _ you should’ve just asked me.” 

Cyrus looked around at the few stragglers in the hallway rushing to get to class. If he played around with T.J. any longer, there was no way he’d get to class. He bit his lip, hitting T.J. in the chest, “Stop making everything an innuendo.  _ This  _ is why I don’t like you.” 

“Is that so?” T.J. pulled his lips into a pout before grabbing Cyrus by his sides and squeezing, pulling him closer as Cyrus yelped. “You don’t like me, hm?” His thumb slid under the fabric of Cyrus’s white sweater, searing what felt like a hole in the skin under it. 

Cyrus blushed, lowering his voice to a whisper, “T.J., just--” 

“You don’t like me?” T.J.’s brows furrowed as his other thumb slipped under, a twinkle in his eyes as Cyrus’s breath hitched in his throat. T.J. glanced around the hall. Everyone had disappeared.  _ Great _ . The bell sounded.  _ Cyrus was late.  _

Cyrus twisted, attempting to wriggle out of T.J.’s grasp, “Let go, T.J. You made me late for class.” 

T.J.’s bottom lip jutted further out, “Don’t be mad at me, Cyrus.” He glanced at the mole on Cyrus’s hand before running his teeth over it, and Cyrus felt his blush start to spread. 

“T.J., cut that out.” Cyrus’s tone was warning, but his gaze was needy, desperate, broken. He was sure a bright red had dusted his cheeks at this point, and he forced his eyes to look anywhere but T.J.’s. 

“You don’t like me? Is that right, Cyrus?” T.J.’s fingers spread, coming to rest under either side of Cyrus’s butt as his thumbs still held Cyrus’s hips in his grip. 

Cyrus felt himself growing faint at T.J.’s touch. His voice was weak as he argued, “T.J., stop--” 

“Are you mad at me, Cyrus?” He let his thumbs trace circles on Cyrus’s stomach, and Cyrus felt his butterflies take hold. 

He knew his voice was syrupy, liquidy, a pool of his emotions as he spoke as though he were entranced, “ _ No _ .” 

T.J. smirked, letting his thumbs run up and down and up and down. “Do you like me?” 

T.J. fingers suddenly dug into Cyrus’s backside, and Cyrus felt his eyes widen as his cheeks burned, “ _ Yes _ .” T.J. winked, dropping his hands back down to the floor. Cyrus sprung away from him, confused, “Wait, you… I… huh?” Cyrus scratched his head, still feeling dizzy from T.J.’s touch. He frowned at T.J. as he scrambled for his books, “That wasn’t funny, T.J. I can’t believe you’d tease me like that in--” 

“ _ Who said I was teasing you? _ ” His breath was against Cyrus’s ear, and Cyrus shuddered beneath it. T.J. kneaded a hand through Cyrus’s shoulder, smiling when Cyrus preened into the touch. “I’d like to finish what we started, but I’m pretty sure you’re late for class. Which we could miss, of course.” Cyrus watched him smirk. “So, want to come to my house after school?” 

Cyrus coughed into his fist, “Would, uhm, Amber--?” 

“She’s spending the night with Andi.” T.J. waggled his eyebrows, “We could watch a movie, order some pizza, make out.” 

Cyrus averted his gaze, “And if I don’t want to do any of those things with you?” 

T.J. let his hand slip under Cyrus’s sweater, fingers splaying across Cyrus’s stomach as Cyrus swayed a little to one side. “Whether or not your brain wants to, your body definitely does.” He winked at a frustrated Cyrus. “Just… text me yes or no.” 

Cyrus watched him go longingly. He punched a locker angrily before picking up his book and rushing into class. 

And when they were with friends? They were all celebrating the Grant High girls’ basketball team win against Monroe at the Spoon one evening, and Cyrus thought it was going great. Amber and Andi were being all flirty and cute, Jonah and Walker were watching some Youtuber on Walker’s phone under the table, and Marty and Buffy were, of course, bickering. Cyrus was laughing at something Marty had said about the vein popping out in Buffy’s head when she got jealous when he felt a familiar tingle against his skin. T.J. had his arm around Cyrus’s shoulder, his other hand coming to trace circles on Cyrus’s back under his polo. Cyrus adjusted his collar, suddenly warm, as he sent a warning glare in T.J.’s direction. T.J. was being particularly whiny that night as he had had a math test earlier that day. He leaned in closer to Cyrus, “Cy, can we just get a booth to ourselves tonight? I want to give you your anniversary present.” 

Cyrus gasped as T.J.’s hand hiked further up his back, smiling politely when Buffy sent a confused glance his way. In the corner, Amber was playing with Andi’s hair. He tried to push himself against T.J.’s hand and sort of crush it against the seat, but T.J. just snaked his arm all the way around Cyrus’s waist, letting it rest above his belly button. “Our anniversary isn’t until tomorrow, T.J.” 

“But I want to see your pretty smile now,” T.J. whined. 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, smiling at a story Andi was telling about a paint dilemma she and Walker had had at the academy. He looked back at T.J., “If you be good until our friends leave, I’ll even let you come home with me.” 

T.J.’s eyes lit up, “Oo. Can we watch that nature documentary your mom showed us last week?” 

Cyrus felt himself beam, “We can watch whatever you want.” 

“Sold.” T.J. released Cyrus from his grip and sipped from his milkshake. Cyrus dipped one of his baby taters in T.J.’s chocolate shake. T.J. bit half of it off, and the entire table got quiet. T.J. stilled, shifting awkwardly in his seat, “What?” 

The apples of Cyrus’s cheeks grew red, “They’re surprised. I’m usually pretty protective of my taters.” 

Buffy guffawed, “Protective? Cyrus, the one time I tried to steal a tater from you, you held scissors to my hair until I bought you another basket.” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, shrinking against T.J.’s side, “I was like nine.” 

“Mhm,” Buffy and Andi remarked in unison. 

T.J. shrugged, “I don’t get it. If Cyrus wants baby taters, I’ll buy him another basket. Or, hey, we still have that bag in the freezer from--” Cyrus punched T.J. in the stomach, and he coughed, “Ow. What was that for?” 

Buffy lost it, completely bent over in laughter, “I’m sorry, did Kippen just say he has frozen taters in his freezer for when you come over? That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard!” 

T.J. blushed, turning away from Cyrus, “It’s not that big a deal. I buy Cyrus whatever he wants with the money I make from the gym. Oh, by the way--” He turned to Cyrus excitedly, “I talked my mom into buying the stuff to make chocolate-chocolate chip muffins every month when she goes shopping!” He planted a kiss on Cyrus’s lips, “Is that okay?” 

“That’s perfect,” Cyrus spoke against his lips. Buffy choked on her baby tater, and Marty patted her gently on the back. Cyrus frowned, “Are you okay, Buffy?” 

“No, I’m not  _ okay _ .” She threw her hands up, urging the others to agree with her, “Are you kidding? Cyrus just let T.J. eat half of his baby tater! Which was dipped in  _ T.J.’s  _ milkshake, by the way! And he’s buying Cyrus  _ gifts _ ?” Buffy shook her head, “I have to see this to believe it. Sorry, Kippen, I just don’t think even Cyrus here could make someone as rough as you that soft.” 

“Thanks a lot!” Cyrus shrieked sarcastically. 

T.J. kissed Cyrus’s cheek to make him feel better about it before staring back at Buffy, “I am not  _ soft _ , Driscoll.” 

Marty snorted at that, “Oh yeah? Why don’t you show us what you got Cyrus for your anniversary?” 

T.J. glanced at Cyrus, who nodded. “Fine. It’s in my car. I’ll go get it.” T.J. ran off, leaving Cyrus to glare at his friends. 

“Really? Did you guys have to ruin the evening like that?” he griped. 

Amber snickered, “Don’t worry. If Cyrus is sad, T.J. will just punch whoever hurt him and kiss it away.” The rest of the group laughed at that. 

“Ugh. You guys are the  _ worst _ .” He dipped his tater in T.J.’s milkshake and ate it. He put half on a napkin and slid it in front of where T.J. sat. He looked over at Jonah, “T.J.’s a nice person. He was nice before I started dating him.” 

Jonah shrugged, “I never really knew Kippen.” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “Can’t believe you’re clowning him like this.” 

“It comes from a place of love?” Andi offered up half-heartedly as Amber laughed. 

T.J. suddenly rushed back in, out of breath, as he presented Cyrus with an elegantly-wrapped gift. “Here you go, Cyrus.” 

Cyrus smiled sheepishly as he opened it. When he saw what was inside, he set it on the table and hugged T.J. tight, “Oh my God, T.J., it’s perfect!” 

“Oh, gag me with a spoon,” Buffy made fun. 

Andi leaned forward and gasped, “Oh my God. You two are totally husbands.” 

This piqued even Jonah’s curiosity, “What is it?” Inside the package were new dinosaur pajamas, a personalized apron that said, “Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Muffin,” and, best of all, tickets to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. 

Walker scrunched his face up like he just realized something, “Come to think of it, you’d make a great Draco Malfoy.” He looked T.J. over once more before popping a baby tater in his mouth. 

T.J. ignored this, “I have a matching apron, by the way. And I’m  _ hoping  _ you’ll give one of those tickets to me. It’s for your date.” 

Cyrus actually felt himself near tears as he smiled at T.J., “Of course the other one’s for you, idiot!” He pulled him into another powerful embrace. 

T.J. grinned big and wide, “Awesome. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.” 

“‘ _ I wasn’t sure you’d like it _ ,’” Buffy made fun in an exaggerated voice as she ate another tater, disgusted, “Yeah, Kippen, you’re not soft  _ at all _ .” 

Later, in the car, Cyrus turned to T.J. and kissed him gently. T.J. smiled, “What was that for?” 

Cyrus smiled bashfully, “My gift isn’t as great as yours. I’m really not sure you’ll like it.” 

T.J.’s features softened, “I’ll like anything you got me, Cyrus.” 

“Okay, well.” Cyrus pulled his drawstring bag out of the floorboard, offering it to T.J., “Sorry, wrapping presents gives me anxiety.” 

“This is perfect.” T.J. opened it, and Cyrus felt his entire heart split open and spread to his entire body as T.J.’s eyes brimmed with tears. Seriously, he wouldn’t even look at Cyrus. He sniffed, “Cyrus, I--” 

“Tell me those are tears of joy,” Cyrus whispered. 

T.J. kind of aggressively pulled Cyrus over the console and onto his lap, kissing him slowly and sweetly, “How did you--?” 

“My dad knows a guy.” Now abandoned in the floorboard was a basketball autographed by James Harden. Apparently, he was a really great basketball player. And, at the bottom of the bag were two tickets to see a local production of  _ RENT _ . “I was pretty sure about the basketball, but not the tickets. Would you be willing to--?” Cyrus laughed as T.J. cut him off with another kiss. “I can’t believe you’re crying right now. Can I record this?” 

“I love you, Cyrus Goodman. You don’t have to say it back. But I’m crying because I love you.” He kissed Cyrus’s forehead, “You can do whatever you want with me. I’m yours. I have been since the day we met.” 

Cyrus smiled at that, “There’s no way you loved me then.” 

“Oh, yeah? You wanna bet on that?” He attacked Cyrus with a barrage of kisses until he was backed against the passenger’s side door again, and Cyrus melted against the feeling of T.J. Kippen’s lips. 


	14. Coming to Blows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!PLEASE READ!!!!! This chapter is somewhat NSFW. I don't really write smut because it isn't exactly ur girl's forte, but it does get a little mature. Not enough to change the rating, I don't think. There's just some language and a lot of skirting around what's actually happening. I tried to make it suitable to teen audiences but PLEASE JUST LET ME KNOW IF IT'S CRINGE OR IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE and I have NO PROBLEM DELETING it. 
> 
> Also comment if you get the unintentional pun in the title (which is not that subtle) lol ;p 
> 
> KUDOS AND COMMENT TO LMK WHAT YOU THINK ;p
> 
> OH AND SORRY FOR TYPOS
> 
> *EDIT: I have gone back and edited this cringe-worthy scene so let me know what you think. It gets super corny but also better than the original. :)*

Of course, no relationship was perfect. Cyrus wanted to chalk their problems up to being teenagers, but they were actually adults. And, anyway, Cyrus thought more of their problems lied in the fact that they were human. They weren’t immature problems. They were things all people struggled with. Cyrus’s fault was his insecurities, and Cyrus thought T.J. had no faults, but his temperament sure didn’t help things. It started out with little snipes here and there, and both decided to brush them off. 

There was one night that T.J. knocked on Cyrus’s window when Cyrus was alone. His parents were at some meeting for therapists on how to help LGBTQ+ patients. Cyrus thought that was ironic, especially considering he still wasn’t out to his parents. That was another thing that bothered T.J. Anyway, T.J. knocked on Cyrus’s window, and Cyrus stopped studying, pausing his music and letting his headphones hang around his neck. When Cyrus let T.J. in, he was excited as always to see T.J., but T.J. didn’t seem too happy to see Cyrus. He frowned at the book on Cyrus’s bed, “What is that? Is that AP calc?” 

“AP Calc II, actually,” Cyrus spoke softly. He knew math was a sore spot for T.J., though Teej still hadn’t actually told Cyrus about his dyscalculia. Cyrus sat on the bed, offering T.J. a place next to him as he put his books away. 

T.J. declined, leaning against the closet door instead. He swiped his thumb along his lip, “My boyfriend’s a genius, I guess.” He tried for a smile, but it was a weak attempt. 

Cyrus considered what to do in this situation, “Did something happen with your dad?” 

That was the wrong choice of words. T.J. scoffed, and he started to sound the way Cyrus imagined he had when he was younger and mean to Buffy, “What, you think I’m just an angsty teen with daddy issues? We can’t all have four parents.” 

Cyrus shifted his weight on the bed uncertainly, “I know that.” 

“I’m not sure you do,” T.J. shot back, looking around the room rather than at Cyrus. “Your room is kind of dorky, don’t you think?” 

Cyrus shrugged, “You’ve been here before. You’ve never mentioned it.” 

T.J.’s lips twitched down into a frown, “I’m just saying. Has it changed since you were twelve?” 

Cyrus tried to ignore the jab, taking his headphones off and setting them with his phone on the dresser. He sat back on his bed, pointing at a poster of Panic! at the Disco on the wall. “That’s different.” T.J. searched for something else to insult as Cyrus frowned at him, “If you came here to use me as a punching bag, I suggest you find somewhere else to go. I might have endured it four months ago, but now I know you.” 

T.J.’s brows knit, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Cyrus slid back on the bed, laying against a pillow Iris had knit him one Christmas. “Jonah used to do it all the time, and I let him. I was so glad to have any bit of his attention, even if it was negative. That’s why Buffy called him toxic.” 

T.J. snickered, “Buffy called me toxic, too.” 

“Maybe ‘cause you were,” Cyrus pursed his lips, “And I get that it might be your way of balancing out some of the things that might’ve happened to you that weren’t fair. That was Jonah’s excuse, too. But that doesn’t mean I have to be subjected to it. Punch an _actual_ punching bag or something. But don’t take it out on me.” 

He saw T.J.’s expression soften, “When did you learn to speak up for yourself?” 

Cyrus shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You taught me that.” He pointed to the window, “That’s there if you want to use it.” He patted his bed, “But this is here, too.” 

T.J. finally took a seat next to Cyrus, “I tried telling my dad I was gay. You know, my mom already knows. She’s fine with the whole thing. And Amber is too. She’s not sure of her own sexuality yet.” He shook his head, “But my dad’s a different beast, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Cyrus rubbed circles in T.J.’s back, “Yeah, I can imagine.” 

“So I was just listening to this vinyl Amber got me for Christmas. It’s Queen. And he starts rambling about how Queen started this new gay fad and everyone’s going to hell and how gay people are an abomination. He wishes they’d all kill themselves and make life easier for straight people--for _normal_ people.” T.J. looked exhausted as he spoke. “And I was like, well, dad I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being gay. It’s not like you can control who you’re attracted to.” 

“Oh.” Cyrus stopped massaging and came to sit beside T.J., sneaking under his arm and sticking himself to T.J.’s side. 

“Yeah. And, the sad thing is, I was still holding onto this hope that maybe he could change if his own son was a member of that community, you know? If he knew I identified that way, maybe he’d stop hurting me. Is that stupid?” T.J. asked Cyrus. 

Cyrus brushed T.J.’s hair out of his face, “No. That’s a really brave way to think, T.J. I’m sorry he was too blinded by hate to see what an awesome son you are.” 

T.J. nuzzled his head against Cyrus’s, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Do you know you mean everything to me? I’m sorry I was a jerk.” 

“T.J.--” Cyrus stopped as T.J.’s hand came to rest on his knee. 

“No, really, Cy. I’m always putting my walls up when I get hurt. But since you… I don’t know what you did to me, but thank you for it.” He placed a passionate kiss on Cyrus’s lips as Cyrus rocked back onto the bed, letting T.J. hover above him. 

Cyrus felt a little out of breath, “T.J., we don’t have to do this if you aren’t in the right headspace for it.” 

“We won’t do anything. I just want to kiss you,” he promised. 

Cyrus nodded slowly, “Okay.” And T.J. followed through. He kissed Cyrus so much that Cyrus actually thought his lips might fall off. He kissed Cyrus on his lips and cheeks and forehead and even his eyelids, which made Cyrus laugh. When T.J. glanced at the clock a few moments later, an hour had passed. Cyrus blushed, pushing T.J. away. He tried fixing his hair, which T.J. used as some sort of dock to rest his hands in any time he kissed Cyrus. “Feel better now?” 

T.J. grinned, “Uh-huh. How does that make you blush harder than the other stuff we’ve done?” He got up and pinched Cyrus in the ass, laughing when he yelped. “I never tire of doing that.” 

Cyrus grimaced, unimpressed, “That’s not nearly as amusing as you make it out to be. And I guess the physical stuff makes me… I don’t always feel like I’m actually doing it,” he tried to explain. 

“Why do you say that?” T.J. asked. 

Cyrus flushed red, “Like, there are things I picture myself doing to you in my head.” T.J. raised his eyebrows at that. “But then I get so uncomfortable with myself and so embarrassed about it that it translates to--” He gestured between them, “This in real life. Know what I’m saying?” 

“Cyrus, you have _got_ to stop getting embarrassed,” T.J. teased, biting Cyrus’s earlobe. Cyrus always burnt up when he did that. He wasn’t sure why. “Especially if you hope to get anything out of the relationship. Remember what I told you at our first movie night?” 

Cyrus nodded, “That you can’t read minds. If I want something, I have to take it.” 

T.J. shifted slightly, bouncing back on the bed. Cyrus perched at the end, “Or at least ask for it.” 

Cyrus still didn’t completely know how to do that, “Okay, but how do I ask you to do something if I’m embarrassed about it?” 

“It’s like learning to ride a bike,” T.J. grinned, “You just do it.” 

“Is Nike sponsoring you now? Can I be your agent?” It was a weak joke, but Cyrus wanted to change the subject. 

T.J. frowned, pulling Cyrus into his chest. Cyrus found their position to be comfortable. He was basically in T.J.’s lap, his head rested against T.J.’s chest like they were cuddling. He marveled at the distance between his feet and T.J.’s. T.J. was _tall_. “What do you want from me?” He brought his lips to Cyrus’s ear again, whispering as Cyrus felt himself began to strain, “Tell me what’s inside your head.” 

Cyrus gulped, “Okay.” T.J. furrowed his brows. So Cyrus had some leverage here. Because T.J. really didn’t know what Cyrus was doing. Cyrus thought he might turn to ashes as he turned around, dragging T.J. by his feet to the end of the bed. 

“Cyrus?” Cyrus was pretty sure T.J. knew what he was doing. His voice was heavy with desire, simultaneously laced with concern, “Are you sure about this?” 

“Didn’t you tell me to take what I want?” Cyrus used his own words against him. 

“Well, yeah, but I-- _fuck_.” 

Cyrus was unzipping T.J.’s jeans, and he tugged on either side of them. “Should I do this part or should--?” Before he could finish, T.J. had taken care of it, his _it_ now present in front of Cyrus’s face. Cyrus felt something in his stomach erupt as T.J. clenched Cyrus’s hair in his hands. Cyrus didn’t _exactly_ know what he was doing it, but if he followed what he did inside his head, it went a little bit like this. There was a lot of Cyrus asking T.J. if he was okay and T.J. asking Cyrus if _he_ was okay. There was a lot of blushing from Cyrus a _lot_ of obscenities from T.J. And T.J. helped Cyrus, too--all done in a few swift motions with lots of awkward, gravelly laughter, fumbling, and vulnerable noises. 

And when it was all said and done, Cyrus had the audacity to hide under the covers and blush into a blissed-out sort of oblivion. T.J. lied next to him on the bed, panting heavily, and their hands found one another in the center of the mattress, fingers laced and clinging to something desperate--happy and hopeful as if afraid it wouldn't last. And T.J.'s other hand found its way through Cyrus's hair, and Cyrus melted under the touch. 

_Forever. Here_ , they both thought. 

Cyrus looked up at T.J. with open eyes, "Was that okay?" 

"That was--" He wanted a word to do it justice, to explain that though the mechanics had been messy, it had been more than sex. It had been _making love_ \--that that meant more to him. That _Cyrus_ meant more. But Cyrus took his silence for displeasure and hid under the covers again. "Hey, come back here." T.J. laughed softly, _warmly_ , and Cyrus peeked from under the throw. "You're amazing, and I love you--and that stands for everything you are and everything we do together." It still didn't say all that he meant. _I love you_ , he thought again and again. If he could just scream it to the top of his lungs until his throat was raw, it still wouldn't be enough. "It was more than okay." 

"Okay," Cyrus tutted softly, turning his face to kiss T.J. on the lips. "I love you too." 

"I love you." He kissed Cyrus's forehead as they snuggled under the covers, "I love you. _I love you_." He whispered it until Cyrus fell asleep in his arms. 


	15. Two Handcuffs and a Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for typos! kudos and comment to let me know what u think! :)

But T.J. and Cyrus could only ignore the problems in their relationship for so long. T.J. seemed excited as he walked Cyrus to lunch one day, his grin contagious as they sat down. Jonah, Buffy, and Marty were sitting with Amber, Cyrus realized, which puzzled Cyrus. “Why are they sitting over there today?” 

“Not sure, Underdog.” But Cyrus could tell by the shit-eating grin on T.J.’s face that T.J. knew exactly why. He flung a baby carrot at T.J.’s face, and T.J. smirked smugly upon catching it in his mouth. 

Cyrus blushed as he whispered, “If you tell me, we can go to my place after school. There’s something happening with my aunt that I was able to talk my way out of. The house will be totally empty.” 

T.J. waggled his eyebrows at that, “Can we watch that dinosaur cartoon you like?” 

“ _ The Land Before Time _ ?” Cyrus whispered excitedly, pulling his fist into his chest triumphantly at T.J.’s nod, “Yes! That’s exactly what I was thinking.” 

“Okay, fine.” T.J. pulled two tickets from behind his back. 

Cyrus frowned, “Are those tickets to prom?” 

T.J. rolled his eyes, “What do you mean, ‘ _ Are those tickets to prom? _ ’ Of course they’re tickets to prom!” 

Cyrus gulped, “Oh. Okay.” 

T.J.’s eyes filled with hurt, “What’s wrong? You have plans that weekend or something?” 

Cyrus felt his eyes widened as he tried to come up with a lie quickly, “Yes! Uh huh! Jonah and I are--” 

“I asked Jonah before I bought the tickets if you guys were doing anything,” T.J. pushed, frown deepening, “I asked the entire inner circle, matter of fact. Even Iris and Libby.” He pulled his hand from over top of Cyrus’s, “Why did you lie to me?” 

Cyrus felt his lip quiver, “I’m sorry, T.J. But prom? In front of  _ everybody _ ?” 

T.J. seemed to back even further away like he’d been wounded, “You care about that? Cyrus, we’re  _ boyfriends _ . We’ve done stuff together. We’ve kissed. We’ve flirted.” He lowered his voice to softest of whispers, “You’ve had my  _ penis  _ in your  _ mouth _ .” Cyrus felt himself blush all over. “What do you care if a few more people see us dance together? Maybe kiss? Maybe hold hands? And if it’s your parents you’re worried about, just tell them we’re going together as friends. It’s not like that isn’t believable.” 

Cyrus sniffed, “It’s just so public.” 

T.J. removed his other hand from the table, “Are you seriously doing this to me? Right now? I’ve spent my  _ entire senior year  _ pining after you. I was so  _ patient _ . And I’m not holding that against you, but Cyrus--” He sniffed like he was about to cry, “The one thing  _ I  _ want to do. Something that I thought would make both of us happy. You don’t want to do that with me?” 

Cyrus reached toward T.J., “It isn’t like that. I just figured maybe we could go to my house and do a prom of our own? Like, in the backyard or something? That way I can keep you to myself.” 

T.J. hung his head, closing his eyes as he spoke, “Cyrus, I don’t think you understand. This is like when I had you wear my jacket. I did that because I wanted to send a message to the world that you were mine. I’m proud to call you my boyfriend. Are you not proud to call me yours?” Cyrus didn’t answer, and T.J.’s brows formed a V as he turned away from Cyrus, “Fine. Forget I said anything. Forget about our plans. And forget I asked. I’ll just go with someone else.” 

“T.J., wait--” But T.J. was gone, and Cyrus flinched as the cafeteria doors slammed shut behind him. Buffy looked over curiously, and Jonah looked concerned. Both walked over quickly, flanking either side of Cyrus. 

Buffy went first, “What happened, Cyrus? Did T.J. hurt you?” 

Cyrus shook his head. 

Jonah went next, “Is he upset about something else?” 

Cyrus shook his head. 

Buffy frowned, “Can you tell us what happened?” 

Cyrus nodded, “T.J. asked me to prom. It was really sweet and kind of unexpected, but I… I said no.” 

Jonah knit his brows, “Why would you say that?” 

Cyrus blushed, “Because I was afraid of going out with T.J. in public. All our dates up to this point have been with little to no people around. Every kiss we’ve shared, every time we’ve flirted, our whole relationship. Period. It took me a month to tell even Jonah we were dating.” 

Buffy squeezed Cyrus’s hand, “I don’t get it, Cy. Why are you afraid to go public with T.J.? Though I hate to admit it, he’s like the perfect boyfriend. Especially for you.” 

Jonah added, “And now he’s heartbroken. Did you mean to do that?” 

Cyrus sighed, “So I’m the bad guy for being scared?” 

Buffy shook her head, “No one’s making you the bad guy here. We just know you’re better than that. And it’s not like you promised T.J. you two would go public, but I’m betting you never exactly said you couldn’t be, either. You should have warned him if you were thinking like this. He might have helped you rather than blowing up about it.” 

Cyrus felt the sting of tears behind his eyes, “Well that doesn’t matter now, does it? Because he did blow up. I screwed up everything.” 

“You didn’t screw everything up, Cyrus.” Jonah released a heavy sigh, “There’s just something I don’t understand. At the beginning of the year, you weren’t exactly out to everyone, but you also didn’t care who knew. What’s the difference now?” 

Cyrus thought he was going to be sick, “The difference? The difference is I didn’t actually have a boyfriend then. What if things… what if things don’t work out between me and T.J.?”

“Do you have any reason to believe they won’t?” Buffy grabbed his other hand, “Cyrus, I’ve watched you grow so much as you’ve come to terms with who you are. From dealing with your anxiety to coming out, you’ve done some seriously amazing things.” She shook her head, “I hate seeing the thoughts slip through and convince you that they’re right. Do you hear me? I  _ hate  _ seeing that.” 

“I just… Suddenly, everything becomes real. Once it’s real, there’s so much room for things to get messed up,” Cyrus tried explaining again. “I don’t get it either, you know. It’s just the way I feel.” 

Jonah nudged Cyrus in the arm, “Cyrus, I think I know the place we can go to make you feel better about yourself.” Buffy exchanged a glance with him, but Jonah shook his head. This was something he wanted to take care of. Slowly, Buffy nodded. “C’mon, Good Man. Let’s go.” 

Cyrus wrinkled his nose as Jonah took his hand, “But where are we going?” 

Jonah smiled softly, “To see your Bubbe Rose.” 

~*~

Cyrus walked up to the grave with a soft smile, squeezing Jonah’s hand as the other boy left him to take care of things. Cyrus hadn’t visited his Bubbe Rose since she had passed while Cyrus was in middle school, a short time after he came out to Jonah. 

“Well, Bubbe, looks like it’s just you and me again.” He smiled, and he liked to think she was, too. “I still remember your shiva. Oh, boy at the mess Bowie caused when he brought a store-bought kugel to it. Well, you know how that goes. I still don’t think my family can look at him the same.” Cyrus chuckled as he dropped to one knee. He thought about everything he’d want to tell her if she was still here. “There’s this boy I really like. Yes, I said boy, Bubbe Rose. No need to give me that tone of voice.” He tried laughing, but it came out a raspy bark. His throat felt dry and scratchy as his eyes pooled with tears. “Come to think of it, I’d really like it if he were here with me. I brought my first crush, though. You remember Jonah. He was surrounded by girls at your shiva, Bubbe. You would have been so amused.” His laugh this time was low and whole-hearted, just as Bubbe would’ve wanted. He bit his lip as his tears spilled over, “I should have told you before everything happened, but I was so confused. Anyway… Jonah’s my best friend now. He’s been really supportive of the whole gay thing, the way I imagine you might’ve been. He’s in the car right now, waiting on me. He thought I needed you. He hasn’t always been, but he’s a good friend.” He paused, touching the flowers his mother had left there. “These are gorgeous. I know, I know, I’m stalling. I just don’t know what to say. This guy I met…” He couldn’t help snorting, “He’s a  _ mess _ , Bubbe Rose. God, he’s  _ so  _ infuriating, you know that? He has this broody, harsh exterior. I think he likes to retain an air of mystery at all times. He’s been through a lot that we don’t really talk about because we like to think he’s more than that, you know. He  _ is  _ more than that. No, we spend a lot of time talking about… about  _ us _ . About our friends. About the stuff we like and care about. He helps me with my anxiety a lot. He taught me how to ride a  _ bike _ , Bubbe Rose!” Cyrus felt himself light up, “A  _ bike _ !” He shook his head just thinking about it, “But our relationship has problems. It’s me. I’m the problem. I mean, T.J. shuts down when he has a rough day, but we always work through that. He’s so patient with me, Bubbe Rose. And I… I really like him. And I’m afraid to mess things up. That’s why I can’t go to prom with him, you know?” Cyrus was  _ ugly crying  _ now. “I can’t. Because what if he decides then that he doesn’t like me? What if he wakes up and realizes that I’m Cyrus Goodman, and he’s T.J. Kippen? Why does he love me, Bubbe Rose?  _ How _ ? How does that work? He’s so… he’s everything. He’s more than I deserve and--” 

“Hey.” Cyrus jumped nearly out of his skin at the voice, rocketing quickly to a stand. There, leaning against a tree in purely T.J. Kippen fashion, was the man himself. He lifted his gaze to meet Cyrus. Cyrus realized he was wearing a tuxedo--and he looked  _ really good  _ in it. Cyrus coughed into his fist. “Now, I’m no moral compass, that much is true.” T.J. slowly began walking toward Cyrus, “But I’d like to know what you think gives you--” He tapped his chin in thought as Cyrus broke into a grin, “ _ Proper jurisdiction  _ to say what you do and don’t deserve in life.” His lips turned down into a pout, “Well, not  _ you _ . But your anxiety. Because that’s what’s talking, you know?” He lifted his chin at Cyrus, “Or were you too oblivious to know that?” He tsked at Cyrus, steps still slow and calculated, “What what Bubbe Rose say if she heard you talking that way about yourself? Would she say, ‘ _ Cyrus, you’re letting your thoughts get in the way of your feelings again. If you love the boy, just tell him. The rest will work itself out _ ?’ Wait, no, I bet she’d say--” He was cut off as Cyrus leaped into his arms, knocking him off balance as he ruffled Cyrus’s hair on his head, “That’s some display of affection, Muffin. Even for-- _ oop _ .” Cyrus pressed his lips to T.J.’s in a long, passionate kiss, and when they pulled away, T.J. was grinning like an idiot, “Jonah told me I might find you here. Does the tux look okay? I’m still trying to find a date for--” 

“ _ Shut up _ , T.J.,” Cyrus laughed against his chest. 

T.J. winked at that, “If we’re going to be going to prom together, I should probably tell you my real name.” 

Cyrus perked up immediately, “Will you, T.J.?” 

T.J. pouted, “I was referring to my prom date. Have you seen him?” He tilted his head slightly, “ _ My  _ prom date would never be crying because I love him too much. Because that’s just silly. And he  _ certainly  _ wouldn’t be frowning at me like you are.” He turned serious then, brushing his thumb over Cyrus’s nose and cheek, “I’m never going to stop loving you, Cyrus Goodman. Don’t you see? You’re the bedpost.” 

Cyrus blushed, “You’re handcuffed to me?” 

“Exactly! I knew only you would get it. Ah. So refreshing to have someone who-- _ whoa there tiger, what are you _ \--?” Cyrus tightened his grip around T.J., attempting to lift him up but failing as they both laughed, “Ah, Underdog, we’ve got to get you working at the gym with me. Or something.” 

Cyrus quirked a brow, “Or something.” 

T.J. smiled, pulling the prom tickets from inside his tux, “You still want these?” 

Cyrus shook his head, “I only need one. You keep the other and use it for me.” 

T.J. smirked, “I mean, I guess I could do that.” And so, it was settled. Cyrus would be attending his senior prom with the Kippen boy. Of course, that didn’t mean T.J. still didn’t make Cyrus work for it. Because, really, asking T.J. Kippen not to tease was like asking Cyrus not to overthink. 

At the Spoon later that same day, Walker, with his arm draped around Jonah, asked, “So you two are going to prom together? Sweet.” He looked over at Jonah, “Is that a thing we should do?” 

And T.J. piped up, “Oh, it doesn’t work that way. Cyrus is still working for his ticket.” 

Cyrus stopped eating mid-baby-tater and wrinkled his nose at the basketball player, “He is?” 

Amber furrowed her brows, “He is?” 

Buffy and Marty exchanged a glance, “He is?” 

Andi puzzled, “He is?” 

Jonah and Walker looked at one another and shrugged as Libby and Iris did the same. And, of course, T.J. slipped his hand under Cyrus’s shirt, the other coming beneath Cyrus to cup one of his cheeks as he squeezed, making Cyrus yelp and blush himself right into oblivion. “Yeah, he is.” 

And precious, sweet Jonah was the one to ask, “How’s he going to do that?” 

“Oh,” T.J. let his hand explore every inch of skin under the bulky sweater Cyrus was wearing, “He knows  _ exactly  _ how he can make it up to me.” 

Cyrus choked on his baby tater as the rest of the table did the same. Amber even barfed into her napkin, “T.J., please tell me you don’t mean--” 

“Geez, always so dirty-minded. I just meant that we could have movie night at his place. Cyrus’s treat. What were  _ you guys  _ thinking?” He sounded pretty convincing, too, and the rest of the table recovered slowly but surely. But Cyrus knew T.J. He was nothing if not a torturous boyfriend. And Cyrus liked it that way.

In the car on the way home, Cyrus looked out the window. He couldn’t have this conversation while actually looking at T.J., “So… about your magic kit…” T.J. swerved on the road slightly, making Cyrus laugh. 

T.J. gave a heavy sigh, “Cyrus, what have I said about talking dirty to me while we’re driving?” 

Cyrus shifted in his seat, “So you really were joking at the Spoon?” 

T.J. laughed, “I mean, I do want to do something with you. Like, maybe a public date. If you’re ready for it.” 

Cyrus nodded, “I’m ready.” Silence ensued as he summoned the courage to say the next thing, “I’m just saying I wouldn’t be  _ against  _ working for the ticket. Or seeing your magic kit. Or letting you have some autonomy over the relationship for a change.” 

T.J. turned into the driveway of his house and shut the car off. He looked over at Cyrus with a hooded gaze, “Cyrus, I love you, but--” 

“I love you too.” Cyrus nodded firmly, “And I want to make you happy.” 

“You already make me happy,” T.J. kissed his cheek. 

Cyrus smiled, “I know but…” He leaned over the console to kiss T.J. on the lips, “I kind of want to. Is that okay?” 

T.J. dragged his tongue across his lower lip, “Thelonius.” 

Cyrus froze, “What?” 

T.J. sighed roughly, “My name. It’s Thelonius Jagger Kippen. My parents are music fans. Even Amber’s name is from some old reggae song.” 

Cyrus felt his face break into a grin, “You have the  _ coolest  _ name. Can I use it?” 

“Only when we’re--” 

Cyrus pulled T.J. to him by the collar of his shirt, finishing the sentence for him, “Alone, right?” He used his other hand to explore the lower half of T.J.’s body until he sucked in a sharp breath, “Can I?” 

And T.J. turned to putty in Cyrus’s hands. Cyrus wondered if he always would, “You can call me  _ whatever  _ you want to call me and use me in  _ whatever  _ way you want.” He shifted in his seat, clearly trying to control something. 

Cyrus perked up at that, “Great. So, that magic kit you were going to show me?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!


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